


Open Eyes

by LikeASwitchInHeat



Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: (Not by Rhett or Link-but it is a discussion), Anal Sex, Arguing, Communication, Creative Partnership, Existential Crisis, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Lurv, M/M, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, Oral Sex, Past Relationship(s), Sexual Tension, Slow Build, Strangers to Lovers, Strippers & Strip Clubs, Webcam/Video Chat Sex, Workplace Conflict
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-02-25 02:21:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 53,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22068316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LikeASwitchInHeat/pseuds/LikeASwitchInHeat
Summary: Rhett has been divorced for a couple of years, and decides to move to a new city to get a fresh start. In pursuing his desire to play music and find himself, he winds up finding so much more 🖤
Relationships: Rhett McLaughlin/Link Neal
Comments: 419
Kudos: 156





	1. Chapter 1

Rhett dropped the last of the boxes onto the floor of his new apartment, and hoped that there wasn’t anything breakable in there. It had been a long day of moving, and he was already feeling the ache in his muscles. He popped a couple of ibuprofen and chased them with tap water, hoping to stave off further back pain; though a good bit of it was likely already on its way.  _ Even the water here tastes different,  _ he thought to himself. 

Tomorrow would be his 30th birthday, but he swore sometimes, in his bones he felt at least a decade older. He made a mental note to buy a water filter the next day. He’d already decided that he’d done enough for one day, and he wasn’t going out to any store tonight.

He looked around his new ‘home’. He had never lived alone as an adult, and he felt wildly out of his depths in assigning any kind of identity to  _ his place _ . There had been his childhood bedroom. And for the first half of his college career he had ‘decorated’ his half of his college dorm room, so that anyone passing the open door could see inside and know a bit about who Rhett McLaughlin was. Or who he wanted them to think he was. 

None of that felt like a good place to draw inspiration for the interior design of the living space of a thirty year old man. He just didn’t feel like framed movie posters were going to cut it. 

After the dorm-life experience, he hadn’t engaged in much more of a journey of self discovery. When they were twenty, he and Amber had gotten married and moved in together right away. Living separately had just seemed silly, in a way that getting married at an age where most of your peers are living in dorm rooms hadn’t - apparently. The style of their home had always been hers, or sometimes theirs. It wasn’t that he wasn’t  _ allowed _ an opinion, it just had always seemed easier not to give it. She certainly had a better eye for that sort of thing. But until this moment, he had never thought to ask himself what his own aesthetic looked like. 

Amber had been right in the end, he had to wake up and start seeing the world through his own lens. Not the one that had been put in front of his eyes - no matter how lovingly - by parents, community members, by Amber herself.

It might have been enough in the short term, but on a long enough timeline shoving down his own choices to appease others was not a sustainable design for life. Somewhere inside, he had always known that it wasn’t the healthiest thing for him. But it wasn’t until his repressed sense of self began to negatively impact others that he was forced to wake up and confront his own vision for happiness. 

Right now, he had to say, looking around his small dusty apartment, his vision didn’t look like much. But it had been less than 24 hours since he’d moved. Maybe he could cut himself a little slack.

He had already made a lot of progress over the past couple years… in letting himself off the hook. If his now-ex-wife could be gracious enough to forgive the mess of a man that he had become, it seemed indulgent for him not to forgive himself. 

He was trying to move through the feelings and buzzwords associated with where he was in life: guilt; failure; it seemed a little too early to call it a midlife crisis. 

But he needed a fresh start, in a fresh setting, without leaning on familiar crutches. Amber. She didn’t deserve that. She would answer his desperate and drunken calls any time day or night. She was his best friend. Since first grade. And he had exploited the crap out of that. 

No more. 

The love that he’d had for her - that he  _ still _ carried in his heart for her - was never the love that a husband feels for his wife. He saw the way that her new fiancé looked at her, and Rhett felt no jealousy, just… curiosity. Rhett had never looked at her that way. And though it seemed obvious that Rhett was no romantic rival, even the most understanding of dudes couldn’t be thrilled that their soon-to-be-wife’s trainwreck of an ex called her in the middle of the night when his existential dread got too real. 

He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t tempted to call her right now. But he knew he had to start figuring things out on his own. No more codependency. No more lying to himself, or his loved ones. It was finally time to start living his most authentic life. 

So he plugged his phone in on the far side of the room, where he wouldn’t be tempted to pick it up. He put on a soft rock album. Something his parents might have listened to as they were cooking out in the backyard when he was young. It gave him a sense of home, and made him feel less alone. The only thing that could have connected deeper would have been a country album. But he didn’t want to feel  _ that  _ deeply tonight. 

He’d gotten the bare essentials unpacked. Enough to make his bedroom comfortable- _ ish _ ; he could save deep cleaning and major unpacking for another time. Now seemed like a good enough point to call it a night.

The apartment had been advertised as furnished, and technically that was true. But Rhett hadn’t fit comfortably into a twin bed since grade school, and he wasn’t looking forward to climbing into that narrow, springy bed, and dangling his ankles off the end as he stretched out diagonally across it. If a day of moving hadn’t worn his back out, this night’s sleep was certainly going to give it hell. 

He added shopping for a bed to his mental list, right next to water filter. 

Ultimately, Rhett couldn’t complain about his accommodations. A person got what they paid for, and he wasn’t paying for much. He was getting a reduced rate for the place. Not out of the kindness of his landlord’s heart; Rhett would be working for it. The guy owned a few music venues around town, and had offered him cheap rent if Rhett would do various jobs for him: house band at one of the smaller rooms; and after seeing Rhett’s size, occasional bouncer at a larger locations. The guy also promised Rhett a slot at his open mic nights each week.

That was really all that Rhett needed in his newly awakened state: a roof over his head, and a place to play music. 

_ Hm.  _ Rhett paused as he was stepping out of his jeans, and about to slide into his too-small bed. That was maybe one of the first clear things that he could say about himself as the freshly autonomous person that he was becoming. It wasn’t much, but he clung to this new sense of self that he was developing. 

He smiled as he pulled the scratchy blanket up to his chin, curling his legs so his toes wouldn’t poke out the end it. The environmental conditions may have been less than ideal. But inside he was as content as he had ever been. 

_ My name is Rhett.  _

_ I love playing music. _

_ Nice to meet  _ **_me_ ** _.  _


	2. Chapter 2

Rhett woke up slowly. He could tell it was well into the day by how the sun streamed in through his window. It wasn’t low morning light. He stretched out and spent a couple of minutes watching dust motes dance in the daylight. Once he was ready he morning zombie shuffled across the room to pick up his phone. 

_ Holy shit.  _

It was 11 o’clock. 

He’d worried that with the east to west coast time change his body would be confused into waking up too early. Apparently not. He decided to go ahead and take the quick adjustment as a good sign. Like maybe he belonged here. Beat the hell out of the alternative of being exhausted and playing catch up with his own energy levels. He really didn’t have time for that. He had a big day ahead of him.

He already had several messages wishing him a happy birthday. Of course it was even further into the day back home… Messages from his old coworkers, his mom, his brother, and of course the first one at midnight eastern time: a “Happy East Coast Birthday :) :) :) :) :)” from Amber. 

He snapped a quick selfie of himself in all his bed headed glory, and sent it to her with the half-hearted caption of “This is 30?”

The joke of the messy hair quickly became too real as he stepped out of the shower, it occurred to him that he didn’t really have any styling products. He looked at himself in the mirror. His beard was just a bit longer than he’d worn it back home. But he kind of liked it. He played a bit with his wet hair. He usually wore it up. But without hair product and a blow dryer, he wasn’t sure how he was gonna do that. Down wasn’t a horrible option, he thought, appraising the Rhett looking back at him. 

Just like the aesthetic of his apartment, he didn’t know his own look yet. He shook his damp hair like a freshly bathed dog, and watched the ends of his hair curl. 

_ Hm _ . 

He lightly scrunched his hair, admiring how it fell into little waves. It wasn’t a bad look, but he was going to need at least a little product to give it a real try. 

He threw a hat on and headed out the door.

He grabbed a couple slices of pizza to fuel his shopping expedition. He arranged for a large frame futon to be delivered later in the day. It would work efficiently in his one room apartment, serving as a sofa by day and easily converted into a bed more suitable for a man of his stature at night. He picked up a water pitcher filter, some toiletries, and some staple groceries. When he passed the home decor section again on his way out he found himself drawn to some neutral colored string lights. 

_ Am I a string lights kinda guy? _

He’d never had string lights indoors in North Carolina, but the idea of them made him feel cozier and more at home. He threw a couple boxes in his cart before checking out. 

He spent the rest of the daylight hours arranging his new living space, and he was beginning to feel really good about it. The exposed brick with the twinkling lights was a very pleasing blend of rough and softness. He had picked up a couple houseplants that the associate in the garden department promised him he wouldn’t be able to kill if he tried. Having  _ life _ in his apartment made him feel more lively by association. He didn’t think he was ready to commit to a pet, but surely he could commit to a plant. 

He’d eaten up a good chunk of his day, and still had a couple hours to kill before his gig, if you could call it that, at his landlord’s bar and coffee shop. (He hoped that the venue made more sense to him once he arrived.) 

Also on the subject of eating things up, he hadn’t had anything to eat since the pizza that had served as both breakfast and lunch. He decided to head over early and try to grab some food before his set. 

He opened the heavy wooden door to the bar and walked in carrying his guitar case, and was greeted by unfamiliar garage punk music and a raspy voice playing from the speakers. There weren’t many patrons, which didn’t really surprise Rhett this time on a weekday. The bartender didn’t even look up from the book she was reading, casually perched cross-legged on the stool behind the bar. Rhett cleared his throat to get her attention. 

“Hey there, I’m Rhett.” He tried to sound confident as he introduced himself, but he immediately felt the familiar sensation of being torn between being himself and trying to fit in to be liked by this complete stranger who seemed so comfortable in this environment. 

“Oh, hey! You’re early. Oli did say you’d be coming by. You’re performing later, right?”

“Yeah,” Rhett looked around the bar, wondering if there was a place for his brand of country-inspired folksy singer songwritery...  _ Crap _ , he thought. Again, acutely feeling his conspicuously loose grip on his sense of self. He didn’t even know what genre he was. Or if he was  _ cool _ enough to try to be one of those artists that defied genre. 

It was helpful that self-assured as she came across, there wasn’t a hint of judgement coming off this person who seemed every bit Rhett’s opposite. She was short, dark, and edgy. He felt tall, muted, and… just on edge. 

“Rhett.” He repeated, extending a hand across the bar. 

“Right, sorry! I’m Lake.”

“Blake?”

“ _ Lake _ . No B.”

Rhett laughed. “Usually that’s my line: Not Brett _. Rhett.  _ No B.”

He began to worry that he was being too chatty, but Lake was still smiling. 

“I am early. I was wondering if y’all were serving food yet?”

“Technically no. But I don’t mind throwing something in the fryer for you.”

“Thanks, Lake.”

Rhett tried to make himself comfortable while she went back to the kitchen to turn on the fryer. There was a horror movie playing on the television above the bar, which was oddly comforting. Having an October birthday, he had a tradition back home of getting together and watching scary movies with his friends. He wasn’t home. And the couple minutes introduction likely made it premature to call Lake a friend. He looked over the menu for something that would be easy to throw in the fryer. She was doing him a favor starting up the kitchen early, the least he could do was be an easy customer. 

Once she got some chicken fingers and french fries ready for him, they had some time to talk. Lake was actually from around there, which was interesting to him - since, as a transplant, it hadn’t really occurred to Rhett that people could just be  _ from _ there. 

He gave her a very vague and incomplete account of how he wound up having recently moved. But she was gracious and didn’t pry further than he was willing to give on his own. 

“So exactly how tall are you?”

“Six-foot seven.”

“That’s not a real height!”

He slid his drivers license across the bar and smugly sipped his water. 

“Okay, so that checks out. But also? It’s your birthday!”

Rhett’s smile widened. He never would have guessed that he would have a friend to celebrate with. 

_ She’s not quite a friend,  _ he reminded himself. Trying not to put the cart before the horse.  _ And this isn’t exactly a celebration.  _

“I can make you a shot that tastes just like birthday cake!” Lake announced. 

Rhett thought that sounded disgusting, but didn’t want to hurt her feelings. “I, uh, still gotta perform upstairs later. I probably shouldn’t be takin’ shots and stuff until I’ve done that. But, thanks for the offer.” Rhett looked around at how the bar had filled since he’d first walked in, some of them being waited on at pub tables by the other server that was on that night. Quite a few he noticed were going upstairs. He glanced at the time, and figured he should start making his way up there as well, and get setup to play. 

“It was really nice meeting you,” Rhett told her, meaning it sincerely. Sure, she was just doing her job, being friendly with the patrons. But it had meant a lot to Rhett due to timing and circumstances he couldn’t quite bring himself to articulate. 

“I’m sure we’ll be seeing lots of each other,” she assured him. “If you’re gonna be playing here, and working here, and don’t you live in one of Oli’s buildings nearby?”

“Yeah,” Rhett smiled. “You’ll be sick of me in no time.”

“Ha! I doubt that.” Her smile wavered momentarily, her lips forming a tight line. “You’re a really nice guy, Rhett. I just. I don’t know if this is weird to throw out there as a disclaimer, but I we are getting along pretty great and I just don’t want there to be any miscommunication. But.. I’m gay.”

“Oh… Okay…” Rhett wasn’t surprised. He wasn’t  _ not _ surprised. He simply hadn’t thought to ask himself who Lake would want to sleep with. He certainly wasn’t trying to throw his hat into the ring. 

But now he had a choice. Or a chance. If there could’ve been a better circumstance, he couldn’t imagine it - and he fancied himself for a pretty creative guy.

So he took a subtle, but deep breath, deep enough that his lungs pressed down over the butterflies in his stomach. 

“Me too.”


	3. Chapter 3

“You’re... gay, too?” Lake looked a little relieved, a little surprised. And then rather embarrassed. “I’m sorry if I was... weird about it. I just never know when or how or even  _ if _ it’s appropriate to slide that fact into conversation. We were having a perfectly nice chat and then—”

“You weren’t weird,” Rhett assured her. “If you hadn’t said anything, I promise I would have been weirder about it.”

“Doesn’t it suck? How we’re always having to, like… come out? Over and over, all over again. With everyone we meet. It’s emotionally exhausting.”

“I wish I could relate,” Rhett said sheepishly. “I haven’t told that many people.”

“What qualifies as not a lot?”

“Um. My parents? My ex.”

“Ex- _ girl _ friend?”

“Worse,” Rhett said, looking down at the bar and tracing over some carved graffiti with his fingernail. “Ex-wife.”

“Shit.”

“I know, right?”

“God, I wanna fly over this bar and give you the biggest hug.”

“I’m okay, I promise. It felt… really good telling you. So, thank you?” And it was true. Rhett’s chest felt lighter, and he could feel his smile reaching his eyes for the first time in a long time. He felt happy. And free, being  _ open _ with someone like this. He hoped that he and Lake would stay friends, and that someday when he was better able to explain it, that he’d remember to tell her what a big deal this was to him. It felt like too much to lay at her feel now. 

But it was significant. 

“Sooo… You’re new in town. I have single friends, y’know?” She waggled her eyebrows playfully.

“I… Uh…”

“You have a boyfriend?”

“No. I just. I don’t know if I’m ready to… for all that? I still feel like I have to figure myself out a little.”

“You  _ ever _ had a boyfriend?”

“Not really,” he admitted, scratching the back of his head nervously.

“You ever  _ sleep with _ a guy?”

“Whoa, whoa.” Rhett held up his hands in a mock-defensive gesture. “Listen. I said I’m gay. I never claimed I was any good at it!”

Lake was giggling so hard she had to catch her breath. She didn’t charge him for the basket of chicken and fries before wishing him luck upstairs. 

——————

Once Rhett entered the portion of the venue, he felt like he’d entered another realm. As rough as the aesthetic of the downstairs bar had been, the upstairs was smooth and electric. The room was bathed in a soft neon glow that kind of made Rhett feel like he was  _ on _ something. He was very glad that he hadn’t taken Lake up on that ‘birthday cake’ shot. Between the high of the positive interaction with her, the pre-performance thrill, and the surreal setting - he felt like his mind could easily drift away. 

A staff member helped Rhett get situated, and informed him that he could get started in about 15 minutes. 

He figured it was a good window of opportunity to ground himself. He made his way to the bathrooms, and not paying attention as he entered he crashed right into a man who was exiting.

“Gosh,” Rhett said in an instant blend of shock and embarrassment. “I didn’t see you there!”

“I’m not as big a man as you there, stretch. But I didn’t realize I was  _ that _ easy to overlook.”

Rhett felt his face flush. The man was not small. And he was not easily overlooked, now that Rhett had taken a moment to look him over. He was… incredibly good looking. 

“I’m sorry,” Rhett said to the guy’s stylish shoes. Too mortified to look him in the eye. 

“Relax, buddyroll,” the stranger said. “We’re still good.”

Rhett did relax at that reassurance, and raised his eyes to take in the crooked grin and the bluest eyes he’d ever seen on a dark haired man. 

Rhett nodded, and still feeling a bit lightheaded successfully entered the bathroom to collect himself. He splashed water on his face and dried it. He looked at himself in the mirror, and despite all the nerves, adrenaline, and awkwardness of slipping more comfortably into his own skin, he liked what he saw. He liked how he felt. 

He had been honest with Lake about himself, and hadn’t needed to completely back himself into a corner in order to do so. Sure, it helped that she had shared first; but he could have easily accepted her truth graciously, without openly returning his truth in kind. 

And he had been honest with himself about the stranger in the doorway. A previous version of himself would have acknowledged his trendy haircut, nice clothes, or reminded himself he should hit the gym or something. And squash down the fully formed thoughts of “that haircut makes him look handsome”, “those clothes accentuate what a nice body he has”, “I’d like to see that body without the clothes”. 

A night for honesty. 

_ This is 30.  _

He felt refreshed and confident as he headed back to the performance area at the front of the room.

He began with a couple of original songs, loving the warmth the friction generated in his fingers. The sound of his own voice inside his head, and coming from the mic. The small crowd had warmed to him easily, albeit in a coffee shoppe and polite kind of way. But he felt  _ heard _ . And very much in the moment. It wasn’t always like that. Sometimes he’d play in order to escape. But right now he was  _ in it _ , and he knew he had to be careful in acknowledging his awareness of the moment, lest it slip away - like becoming lucid in a dream, and startling yourself awake. 

He got out of his head long enough to spot the good looking stranger in the audience. He was sitting by himself at a high top table sipping some kind of coffee drink in one of the house’s ceramic mugs. He looked simultaneously at ease, and very intense.

The intensity was in his eyes, Rhett realized. Rhett fleetingly wondered if he wore contacts. Probably a lot of people around here did. He knew there were a lot of performers, and he knew that he couldn’t always take everyone at face value. Besides, he was wearing very stylish glasses - so he would have to be wearing colored lenses  _ and _ glasses, which wasn’t outside the realm of possibility, and yet... 

There was something about him. 

The man was dripping with sincerity. 

Rhett always tried to do an ocular sweep of the crowd between songs, and generally he found that whenever he made incidental eye contact with people they would reflexively look away, and maybe even blush. But this man’s fierce blue eyes were unrelenting. Like he was daring Rhett to look away, and it was almost enough to make Rhett blush instead. And though he didn’t allow their eyes to remain locked, he couldn’t ignore the impulse that he felt to hold his gaze. The songwriter in him knew there was a story flowing through him, and he’d never wanted to understand anyone more in his life. 

Maybe if he was still there after his set, Rhett’s belly fluttered at the thought, maybe he’d approach him…

First thing first, he had to finish his set. 

He addressed the crowd, “Y’all have been real kind in entertaining my songs. I’m thankful. I dunno if you might have picked up on some country music inspiration in my playing?”

The crowd politely chuckled.

“Well, this next one is beyond inspired. It’s a straight up cover.” Rhett took a steadying breath. “And I’ve never sang it in public before.” The weight of his words wouldn’t land as heavily on the ears of his audience as they felt on his tongue. But his tongue still felt lighter for laying them down. 

He took a deep breath and began to strum his guitar. He noticed with surprise how Blue Eyes’ eyebrows fleetingly quirked and knit together as if the sound was familiar, like he recognized the tune on strings alone. Looks, style, and an ear for country music? Was he just imagining that he had heard the gentlest of a southern lilt during their brief exchange?

_ “I know you loved him… _

_ A long time ago _

_ Even now in my arms  _

_ You still want him I know” _

Rhett spared a fraction of a moment to wonder if he could be so lucky to meet someone like that, before losing himself and letting his eyes slip shut as he sang.

“ _ But darling this tiiime _

_ Your memories die _

_ When you hold me tonight, don't close your eyes _

_ Don't close your eyes, let it be me _

_ Don't pretend it's him, in some fantasy _

_ Darling just once, let yesterday go _

_ And you'll find more love than you'll ever know _

_ Just hold me tight, when you love me tonight _

_ And don't close your eyes” _

He continued the song as if from within a self-created cocoon spun with memory, regret, and heartbreaking honesty. It was tough and translucent; he knew that allowing himself to feel  _ seen _ in this way was key. He could feel his true form tapping at the weaknesses that he was discovering in his protective covering. He felt ready to transform… 

He finished the song. Fresh, weak, and exposed. He heard people softly clapping, and he smiled. 

He opened his eyes.

Blue Eyes’ table was empty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song that Rhett covers at the end is _Don’t Close Your Eyes_ by Keith Whitley.


	4. Chapter 4

Rhett spent the next few weeks settling into his new life. At first, he worried that working in different capacities for his landlord’s different venues would make it difficult to develop a routine. But he found that he enjoyed the rotating scenery, and cast of characters. 

He and Lake continued to be good friends. On slower nights they’d play drinking games watching movies they’d both seen a hundred times at the bar. Non-alcoholic drinking games since they were, strictly speaking, at work. But it was more fun than any night he’d ever had actually drinking out at a bar. 

He was completely settled into his apartment. He’d gotten it fully dusted and cleaned, and it was honestly beginning to feel like home. 

He’d been meaning to get into a workout routine, but it was hard holding himself accountable; despite being fully aware of how physically and mentally important it was for him. It was tough waking up early after he’d worked late the night before. Tough forcing himself to do anything on his evenings off. Easier to convince himself that he’d earned the downtime. But he’d always played sports in high school and college, and among his various missteps since then, he counted falling out of an active physical regimen pretty high on the list. 

Tonight was one of his evenings off, and he was determined to make the most of it. First he tried to see if Lake would want to go for a run or something with him, but she had a date. Not to be discouraged, he went online and found a gym that was only half a mile from his place. And it looked like they had group classes. That would be perfect, forcing him to really put himself out there. 

He liked the  _ idea _ of yoga, and the meditative benefits it provided. And he wasn’t too naive to deny that it was a tougher workout than it looked like. But he was after something a little more dynamic right now. (He briefly considered that maybe he just needed to jerk off.) Then he saw what he was looking for: There was a Pilates class tonight that looked promising and highly rated, but it also looked like it was full up for this week’s class. There was small print that said that you could call to see if there were any last minute openings. 

_ Why not? _ Rhett thought as he picked up the phone. The universe seemed to be on his side lately...

The enthusiastic front desk person at the gym informed him that due to severe thunderstorm warnings there were actually a couple of cancellations, and they’d add Rhett’s name to the list. 

He made sure to get there early so that he could stake out a spot for his mat toward the back of the room. At his height, he was extremely self conscious about being in the way. He rolled out his mat and sat on it trying to appear as neutral as possible. This being his first time, he just wanted to spongey wallpaper. Part of the scenery, soaking everything up. 

The room gradually filled with the rest of the group. Most of them seemed to know one another, and a low chatter filled the the studio. 

Finally, someone made their way to the front, and Rhett assumed it must be the instructor. He felt a twinge of private embarrassment that he’d assumed the instructor would be a woman. But as the man unslung his gym bag, pulled off his light rain jacket and began to stretch his lean muscles - hinging at narrow hips and broad shoulders… Well, clearly this instructor was not a woman. 

“Thanks everyone for coming out tonight despite this unseasonable rain. That’s  _ dedication _ , y’all!” 

Rhett’s ears perked up immediately. He knew that voice. It took him a moment to place it, but the voice, the smile, and most of all: those eyes.

Blue Eyes was the freakin instructor. 

“Is it anybody’s first class tonight?”

Rhett sheepishly raised his hand. He really didn’t want to draw attention to himself. Despite being the tallest person in the room. And the only guy, aside from the instructor, apparently. But he figured it was better to admit that he knew nothing, rather than let the fact reveal itself once they got started. 

“All right then,” the instructor said brightly. “Welcome! I’m Link. And this is Pilates! I’m going to offer modifications for all levels, if you need more or less of a challenge, please take them accordingly. Getting the form right is more important than getting in more reps.”

The class wasn’t even halfway through before Rhett felt his core trembling. 

Link, on the other hand, was incredible. He could do the reps, smile, talk, and not even seem out of breath. Periodically he’d pop up to walk around, and help his students with their form. 

Rhett tried not to hold his breath in anticipation as he hovered awkwardly on all fours in an approximation of table top. It was probably the easiest place for Link to catch him. Not doing much that could be critiqued. Link eventually reached his row. He felt acutely aware of how much he was sweating. He hoped his deodorant had held up. He knew he wasn’t as strong or flexible as anyone else; and rationally, why should he be on his first day? But irrationally, he wanted to impress Link. 

He wanted to impress himself. 

“You’re doing great, Rhett.”

Rhett’s breath caught in his chest. He hadn’t introduced himself, had he?

“But your back is a little too arched. Cute as heck, but there’s a time and a place for that pose. Here,” he positioned one hand on the small of his back, and moved the other to lift Rhett’s belly. “You’re gonna want a more flat back. Engage your core, and stay strong.”

Rhett hoped that he’d been red enough from the exertion of the workout, and his blush wouldn’t show. 

It was simultaneously humiliating and exhilarating having Link correct his form like this. The adrenaline from the brief interaction was enough to power him through the duration of the class. 

Once it had ended, Rhett took his time in rolling up his mat and wiping down the drops of sweat from the studio floor. The class gradually thinned out, and

Rhett harnessed the stampede of endorphins racing through his bloodstream - steering them in Link’s direction. 

“I wanted to thank you. Uh, for the pointers. And the class overall. It was a good introduction for a beginner like me.”

“Well, you’re quite welcome, Rhett. Could I give you one more piece of advice. Or just something I’d observed? You close your eyes when you sing.”

Rhett’s mouth fell softly open. 

“I remember you, y’know?” He was still smiling. He seemed to always be smiling. “You were singing that one night. But you close your eyes when you sing. It’s kind of endearing to see you lose yourself like that, but you also lose an opportunity to connect with your audience. But like I said, just an observation. Your name was on a couple of boards in the cafe, that’s how I knew it. I should have asked though, like if it’s a stage name or somethin’. Hope you didn’t mind my being presumptuous.”

“Oh, yeah. No, it’s my real name. Rhett.” He wasn’t sure how to modestly acknowledgement the recognition. He certainly wasn’t used to it. “I remember you, too. From running into you on the way to the restroom. Sorry, again. About that.”

Link chuckled. “I am glad that we’re running into each other again. I’m Link by the way. Which. I guess you know that now.”

“Unless it was a stage name?” Rhett joked, instantly regretting the corny finger guns he shot in Link’s direction. 

“No, Rhett,” Link said playfully. “That’s not my stage name. I never got a chance to tell you, that was a really  _ raw _ performance.”

Rhett swallowed. Even weeks later, he knew the song that Link was likely referencing. The one Link hadn’t stuck around for the entirety of, if he recalled correctly. Which he was sure that he did, as he’d spent an embarrassing amount of his time thinking about that night. 

“Thanks.”

“You just that good an actor then? To pull off that kind of emotion?”

Rhett didn’t particularly want to tell this story here in the Pilates studio. “I guess it’s just not that much of a stretch from reality. So doesn’t require great acting.”

“Dang. I’m sorry to hear that.” Link looked to be in careful thought as he gathered up the rest of his belongings and slung his bag across his shoulder.

“Yeah…” Rhett muttered lamely, regretting the turn this conversation was taking. 

“I hope you won’t mind me sayin’... That someone would have to be out of their mind to wanna pretend they’re anywhere else than with you.”

Rhett knew he couldn’t hide the blush across his cheeks now. Half flattered, and half ashamed, his eyes drifted to the floor. 

“What if I told you the perspectives were reversed in my case?” Rhett spat the words out, and braced for judgement, and rejection. 

“Ah,” Link said in a neutral tone. “Just didn’t bother changing up the pronouns.”

“Didn’t need to.”

Link just nodded coolly. 

“Well, if this ain’t just like the last time we met…”

“How’s that?” 

Link fished around in his bag, pulling out a pen and a piece of scrap of paper. 

“Well, just like last time, I’m left completely intrigued and wanting to hear more. But, just like last time, I’ve gotta run to work.”

“Oh.” Rhett was kicking himself for not being able to come up with anything better than these monosyllabic responses. But somehow, he reminded himself, Link was interested?

“Here’s my number. I’d love to continue this conversation. You know, hear the whole story, that is - if you’re wanting to share.” He winked at Rhett. “And there aren’t a lot of other country music fans around here. But I really gotta run right now.”

Rhett took the scrap of paper, and the cue to get out of the studio so Link could lock up and get to his next gig. Before leaving the building, Rhett glanced down at the paper, which he now recognized as a cocktail napkin. He couldn’t believe that people actually did that outside of movies! And to Rhett of all people. 

He noticed some glitter sparkling at the edges, and absently tried to brush it off his fingertips. 

He’d gotten a guy’s number… Lake was gonna be so proud!

And Link _had_ left his performance, but he hadn’t _left his performance_. He’d simply had a prior obligation.

Rhett shoved the napkin back into the pocket of his gym shorts as he heard the return of thunder, and the skies began to open up again. The gym was not far from Rhett’s apartment. He thought that if he ran, he could avoid getting too wet. 

He was wrong. 

He got soaked. 

His chest felt like it was caving into itself as he reached into his drenched pocket and pulled out  _ pieces _ of damp napkin, ink completely washed out of it. 

He was so frustrated, he wanted to cry. 

He’d found the  _ perfect _ guy, and now he wasn’t going to be able to call him. His best bet at this point would be attending his next Pilates class, but that wasn’t for another week. Link had put himself out there, and Rhett had barely had the wits to engage him. Now, not calling him for a week? Link was gonna think Rhett was a total jerk. 

Actually, Rhett had already  _ told him _ he was a jerk. Through the song. 

And Link had  _ still _ wanted to talk with him. 

He didn’t know what to do.

At a loss, he changed into a pair of soft dry sweats, curled up onto his bed, trying not to let the slowly developing muscle soreness beginning to creep in remind him of all his mistakes: starting with losing Link’s number, and just working backward from there.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **chapter warnings:** there’s drinking and infidelity described in a past relationship in the context of a dream/memory for exposition purposes.
> 
> It’s a bit of a sulky chapter, but I promise it gets better for our boy(s) 🖤

Rhett’s workout allowed him to sleep deeply, but his troubled mind wouldn’t let him sleep restfully. He was plagued by dreams, and memories. He watched the scenes play out as if he were a spectator observing his own life. 

Aware, but not in control. 

He’d seen this movie before, a thousand times, and he knew he was powerless to change a thing. 

_ Rhett must have been 11 or 12. It was still summer, so not quite 12. His aunt and uncle hosted a family reunion every year. Their daughter Jenny was his favorite cousin. This year was different. They hosted both sides of their families, the side Rhett was related to, and then the other side. He was uncomfortable to not have his usual audience of family members. He had always thought that he was Jenny’s favorite cousin too. But now he suspected he had some competition. There was a boy about their age that she seemed close to. Brendan. He was tall, though not as tall as Rhett. And funny. Everybody liked him. Rhett didn’t like not being the center of attention. Or that Jenny enjoyed his company more. And he was so freakin nice to Rhett.  _

_ Made it tough to dislike the guy.  _

_ So he didn’t.  _

_ He hung out with Jenny and Brendan, and it was all right. Brendan suggested they go to climb trees, but Jenny didn’t want to ruin her sundress. So it was that Rhett and Brendan found themselves in the limbs of a huge magnolia tree. Brendan had boasted it was the best climbing tree, and it really was. _

_ “You ever kiss anyone before?” Brendan asked. Seemingly out of nowhere.  _

_ “Uh. Nah. Not yet. How bout you?” _

_ “Not yet. You know how to though, right?” _

_ “Well, yeah.” Rhett understood the mechanics, but he still felt every breath of lie in his statement.  _

_ “We should practice. So we don’t look dumb when we do it for the first time for real.” _

_ Rhett could feel his nerves snowballing.  _

_ Nerves that he, in fact, did  _ not _ know what he was doing. And that if he kissed him, Brendan would be able to tell. But wasn’t that the whole point of practicing? That it wouldn’t count? _

_ Nerves that it felt like it counted. His body was betraying him in reacting like it counted. And what if Brendan could tell that, too? That some part of him seemed excited at the prospect of kissing Brendan.  _

That’s not what this is,  _ he told himself.  _ I just don’t want to suck at it. I don’t want him being better at me at something else. 

_ He hated that his heart was beating so quickly. And his palms were getting so sweaty. And his lips were getting so dry, which made him want to lick them. But then he’d look like he was licking them in anticipation of the kiss and then and then and then... _

_ “We don’t have to-“ _

_ Rhett lunged across the space between them on the branch with such force that he had to press Brendan’s thighs to the branch to keep from knocking him off it.  _

_ They separated less abruptly, and the summer air felt oddly cool against his lips once it was permitted to softly pass between them.  _

_ “Well, that’s not bad at all,” Brendan told him. “Maybe go in a little slower, but otherwise. Yeah. I think you’ll probably be ready for your first real one.” _

_ Rhett was tempted to try again, taking the pointer of going in more gently. But he figured that would seem a little eager for just practicing. So he just nodded.  _

_ “Yeah, you too. You’re ready for the real thing, too.” _

_ Privately, Rhett could not recall a more ‘real’ experience.  _

_ Months later, when he kissed a girl for the first time, he carried incredible guilt over the conspicuous absence of butterflies, or any wave of serene excitement like the one that had washed over him that day in the tree. It should have felt more significant. But he had ruined his first  _ real _ kiss by doing a practice run with someone that could never mean as much. And he also knew that he’d never forgive himself for that.  _

_ Years later. _

_ Over 15 years later.  _

_ Rhett and Amber had been married for nearly 8 years, and they were attending Jenny’s wedding. Rhett hadn’t seen Brendan since her family’s cookout. Since the magnolia tree. He didn’t want to see him, and he grew angry with himself every time he felt himself putting extra care into his appearance. Or imagining what Brendan might look like now. Was he successful? Was he married?  _

_ Maybe he wouldn’t be there. Rhett didn’t know if that possibility made him more angry or relieved.  _

_ But Brendan was there.  _

_ And he looked  _ good _.  _

_ Rhett hated him for it, and hated himself for being bothered by it. He drank a whiskey to push the feelings down.  _

_ He overheard some guests whispering that Brendan was gay. And Rhett thought he might throw up. Had Brendan known that when he suggested they practice? Had he tricked him? Used him? Why would he pick Rhett?  _

_Or was it Rhett’s fault? Had the kiss made him that way? Rhett couldn’t imagine it was_ that good _of a first kiss. Clearly, he was in danger of thinking too highly of himself. He drank a whiskey to push the feelings down._

_ He watched Brendan laughing and talking with everyone. He didn’t seem to be in nearly as much turmoil as Rhett was. Which wasn’t fair. Or was he just a better actor? That wasn’t fair either. He didn’t want to feel alone with these complicated thoughts. So he drank a whiskey to push the feelings down.  _

_ When they finally made eye contact, Rhett thought he was going to be sick. Brendan had the nerve to smile at him.  _

_ Rhett needed some air.  _

_ He walked out of the reception and toward the woods. It was working. The tightness in his chest eased, and breathing in the cool summer night air soothed the heat in his lungs.  _

_ “Not the best climbing trees out here,” an unfamiliar voice commented.  _

_ Rhett spun around to meet familiar eyes. Familiar lips. And he was suddenly sweaty, and dry mouthed. Licking his lips again.  _

_ “I asked about you, y’know?” _

_ Rhett cleared his throat, like he was considering answering. But he did not speak.  _

_ “Jenny said you didn’t want to hang out again. And then you had a girlfriend. Then a wife.” _

_ “Still do.” _

_ “Congratulations?” _

_ Rhett was spinning the wedding band on his sweaty finger with his anxious thumb.  _

_ “We still coulda been  _ friends _ , Rhett. I’m not an animal. I can control myself.” _

_ “Maybe it’s not you I worry about…” _

_ That had Brendan’s attention.  _

_ “I couldn’t back then. And I’m still not sure I can.” _

_ Their lips came together without a thought.  _

_ “I… have a boyfriend,” Brendan mumbles between kisses, without much conviction behind the words.  _

_ “Congratulations?” _

_ Their lips came together more harshly.  _

_ “A gentlemen’s agreement?” Brendan suggested breathlessly. “Just something we need to get out of our system. Unfinished business from childhood? It doesn’t have to mean anything. We never have to talk about it.” He palmed the front of Rhett’s dress pants.  _

_ Rhett awkwardly confessed that his  _ business  _ would likely remain unfinished. “I’ve had a couple whiskeys tonight.” _

_ “I can taste ‘em.” _

_ “I’m not too… um… responsive after I—“ his breath broke off in a sigh as Brendan’s hand slipped into his pants and wrapped around his  _ quite responsive  _ cock.  _

_ Maybe whiskey had never been the problem... _

_ For all Brendan’s talk of ‘unfinished business’- a phrase that Rhett had always associated with ghosts -something within Rhett was now very much alive. _

_ And just as dream-Rhett was about to come, with one hand buried in dream-Brendan’s hair… _

Rhett woke up alone.

Incredibly and achingly alone. 

He wasn’t yearning for Brendan specifically. He never had; the feeling was mutual. The night in the woods had been a symptom of their own individually failing relationships, not the cause. They’d loosely kept in touch, but physical chemistry aside, they’d had no desire to date one another. 

Strictly speaking, they did ‘get away with’ their little tryst in the woods. No one saw them. And neither would speak of it to anyone else. 

Nonetheless, neither of their relationships survived the year. 

In the interim, it was tearing Rhett apart. He’d cared about Amber in one way or another since they were kids. If he could somehow combine the genuine love and affection he felt toward her with the raw sexual lust that he felt when he thought about… other people... nameless, faceless strangers he hadn’t met yet. He grew more cold, more distant, and ached to hold somebody else when he held Amber at night.

And Amber was no dummy. She could sense it. 

She asked him if there was another woman. 

He told her no, and she believed him. 

She asked him if there was  _ anybody _ else. 

He broke down. 

He never could have navigated his own self acceptance without hers. 

She was kind and supportive, even after he’d confessed to his indiscretion in the woods. She helped him admit to himself that things that he could never directly confront before. Helped him tell his parents. 

There is wasn’t somebody else specifically that was coming between them. But undeniably, there was somebody else out there. 

And they both deserved better.

Amber eventually met someone new, and Rhett was genuinely happy for her. 

But none of the personal growth was enough to keep him from having dreams that wracked him with guilt. And kept him wanting to cling to Amber for comfort and support, as inappropriate as that was. 

She was moving on.

He needed to do the same. 

He looked around his darkened apartment; he was  _ trying _ to do the same. 

He gave himself a pep talk about not letting small inconveniences like a stupid phone number send him spiraling. He promised himself he wouldn’t isolate himself and his feelings like he had in the past, that he would talk to Lake later at work that day about the phone number thing - so he could stop wallowing over it. 

He had steady employment that he enjoyed. 

He had an apartment. 

He was making friends.

He’d lost a guy’s number; but he’d had to  _ get _ a number in order to lose it. 

He closed his eyes, and pulled the blanket around himself more tightly. Hoping to catch another hour or two of sleep. And hoping they would be dreamless. Or if they couldn’t be dreamless, that he would dream of the future instead of the past. 

That there might be blue eyes…

He smiled as he drifted off again. 


	6. Chapter 6

Rhett bounced back from his night of feeling sorry for himself. He did some light stretches, and went for a jog to loosen up his muscles and give himself an excuse to be outdoors and get some fresh air in his lungs. 

He took time to cook himself a nice dinner before work. Sometimes he just threw something in the microwave, or boiled some ramen noodles. Or would forgo dinner altogether if he thought he’d have time to eat at the bar. But tonight, preparing food wasn’t a means to an end. It was a mindfulness exercise. The repetitive chopping motions, the crisp sound of the vegetables, the aromas that gradually filled his small living space. By the time he sat down to eat, his soul felt full again. 

—————

His little bit of self care went a long way toward putting him in a legitimately great headspace for the night. And that was fortunate, as he wasn’t just working the door this evening. He was playing guitar with the house band, and they were opening for a local band that he had never heard of; but that everyone seemed thrilled about. 

Rhett did not experience a lot of nerves going into the show. He had jammed with David and Lucas often enough that they were able to fall into an easy rhythm. And since he didn’t know them, Rhett wasn’t star struck at the prospect of performing with the local talent that was the main draw that night. The series of venues he’d been working all felt like home by now. When the house lights went down, the stage lights that went up bathed him in a quiet calm - at complete odds with the magnitude of sound he and his band mates would soon be sending through the speakers. In that moment, just before they began to play, he could almost pinpoint the place of peace at his core - like a bright light radiating from his chest, traveling through his nerves and finally escaping through his extremities as they began to play. 

Escaping through his fingering of the guitar. 

Escaping through the tapping of his feet. 

He couldn’t have felt more emotionally raw if he was up there stark naked, sharing himself with the crowd. 

But it was not an uncomfortable feeling. On stage, he had found his place of comfortable vulnerability. 

He couldn’t believe he’d gone so much of his life without it. 

—————

The set was over before he knew it. Soon, the entire show had wrapped up; and he, Lake, and the other band members were closing down the bar and helping themselves to drinks. 

Rhett didn't feel like getting too wild with the drinking and everything. He was still largely riding the natural high from the performance and his therapeutic day to himself earlier. It was as if the emotional crash that he’d experienced the night before was exactly what he needed. An inner, emotional demolition - and a clean foundation to rebuild on. There wasn’t really much left that needed numbing inside himself; and he couldn’t remember the last time he could honestly say that. 

“Hey, Rhett?” David drew him back out of his own head. “Are you down to hang out after this?”

“Aren’t most places closing this time of night?”

Lake pet Rhett’s hair. “Oh, my sweet innocent boy.”

Rhett rolled his eyes. 

“There’s after hours places.”

“And other… late night  _ venues _ .”

“What? Like a strip club?” Rhett said, finally catching on. He felt a flash of panic. He’d hadn’t actively lied to anyone about the fact that he wasn’t exactly titillated by the prospect of seeing naked ladies dance. It just hadn’t really come up in conversation, aside from with Lake. 

His eyes sought solace in hers. 

“Oh, don’t worry about Lake, Rhett. She’s more than comfortable with that kind of entertainment.”

So they knew about Lake… But Rhett still didn’t feel compelled to share his own proclivities. He could just go with the flow, he’d done that all his life. It might not be terrible. It’s not like he didn’t appreciate beauty in the female body. He wasn’t blind. It was like looking at a  _ sculpture _ of a cake. He could understand that it looked mouth-watering, it just didn’t tempt  _ him _ to want to actually sink his teeth in. 

And the more he thought about it, it might be fun? It was like going into a challenge with immunity. He could watch everyone else drool and squirm, while he remained impervious to the mind boggling potential of the club’s overly sexualized portrayal of the female form. 

“It’s gonna be a good time, Rhett,” Lake said quietly. “I promise, it will be fun. Trust me?” 

He chuckled, “I mean, if not you, who the heck can I trust around here?”

She tightly hugged him around the waist before they set off for Snow Bunnies. 

Along the way, Lake briefed Rhett on what he could expect from the place. 

“So, this place isn’t… great? I mean, it’s  _ fine _ . But it’s as if it doesn’t know exactly what it wants to  _ be _ . There’s the skeleton of a ski lodge theme with the interior. I think the guy that owns it might be a transplant from Colorado or something? But there are some straight up trashy performances that are damn near  _ comical _ , in my opinion. Like, directly out of the music video of a late 80s era hair band. But then there are some truly  _ gorgeous _ performers who put a lot of thought into their costumes, and pour creativity into their choreography. Almost more... burlesque? There’s a little bit of everything, with no rhyme or reason. It makes no damn sense, but!” She threw in a wink and a grin as she added, “It’s  _ always _ a good time.”

They walked in and Rhett was immediately sensory overloaded. 

Neon lights rimmed raised podiums adorned with long poles that extended from floor to ceiling. Bodies writhed around them in obscenely serpentine movements, while Top 40 hits pulsed in his ears. 

Servers walked around in essentially high heeled boots and underwear, bringing drinks to tables. Their eyes savvy and darting in search of those who looked like they might be willing to pay a little more for some extra attention. 

Rhett looked down at Lake, hoping for some kind of clue as to how he should conduct himself. Like where he should even  _ look _ . Lake happened to glance up at him at the same time, with a nervous and excited look in her eye. 

“Is this okay, Rhett? I know it’s… a lot.”

“It’s fine!” Rhett assured her, timing his words between the beat thudding from the speakers. 

The rest of the guys were tipsy and acting like teenagers. Rhett could overlay in his mind their cartoon eyes and jaws on the floor as the women slinked and writhed on stage. 

He looked at the sign hanging above the back bar, blazing electric blue:  _ Snow Bunnies.  _ There was even a ski with three shot glasses built in along the ski, for that inevitable moment when you want to take a synchronized shot with two of your closest friends?

He was torn between a knee jerk sentiment of derision and a sneaking curiosity of whether Lake would want to do a ski shot with him - and who they would recruit as their third. David seemed to be holding his liquor a little better than Lucas. 

He could  _ kind of  _ make out a log cabin motif, now that he knew to look for it. But, why? He shook his head, and tried not to spare another thought for the inner workings of the minds of the management team at a strip club. 

Probably not a lot of patrons there for ambiance, he reminded himself. 

He ordered a couple of beers from the bar for Lake and himself, and made his way to the lounge area where his group had settled. The lounge was slightly sunken in. A step down, yet with an unobstructed view of the main stage at the front of the room. It was one of the only spaces that would accommodate the entirety of their larger group. 

They claimed a long table, and there was a shuffling of people making their way to and from the bar to grab drinks, not willing to wait for the servers to make their way for the initial round. 

Rhett handed Lake a beer; and she, in turn, handed him a shot. 

“Well, thank you, Rhett! Now I’ll have something to chase this with.”

They tossed back the shots, burning a warm trail down his esophagus and radiating throughout his chest. He sipped his beer and tried to relax into his ridiculous surroundings. 

The lounge reminded him of a fire pit. All dark wood and bright red upholstery. Vaguely sinister with a thread of seduction weaving through it. 

The dancers on the podiums scattered throughout were dressed to look like questionably sexy ski patrollers. In outfits unbefitting any imaginable skiing conditions. They’d need the blankets out of their own emergency kits to keep from hypothermia. 

Lake must have recognized the sterile and coolly analytical look in Rhett’s hand eye. 

“You’re not having fun,” she assessed, but more in a matter-of-fact way than anything accusatory.

“It’s fine,” he insisted. 

Just then the lights in the club dimmed. Had it been remotely possible for Rhett to forget where he was, he would have sworn that a band was about to go on. A flash of light drew his attention to the main stage that had just lit up. The music, which had already been loud enough to make his brain throb, became even more thumping loud as a woman took the stage. She was doing a cliched striptease to an cringeworthy, tired version of an old Britney Spears song - complete with school girl costume. Rhett was overcome with secondhand embarrassment as she went through the motions of her basic floor and pole routine. 

Some members of his group cheered for her. The other patrons littered throughout the club remained passive. No other big groups that night, and everyone was kind of keeping to themselves. Silently sipping drinks, eyes vacant. Not a lot of hooting and hollering. 

Rhett found himself distracting his brain from the layers of awkwardness in his situation by making lists, breaking down the beats of the music; paying way more attention to the way the lights did or did not match up with the choreography, and the small details and few pieces of set or props than any patron was intended to. 

‘Britney’s’ song ended, and Rhett was relieved. 

He tried to calculate how much time he’d endured. Three or four minutes? And how many dancers would they sit through? It was like when he was running a 10k, and he’d distract himself by thinking, “Okay, I just ran 2 miles. I just need to do what I just did two more times. And at 3 miles: just do what you just did one more time, and then you’re done!” A little mental trick that distracted him from the effort he was putting in. Only in this case the finish line was rather open ended…

When the music started up again, it was a whiplash inducing change of pace. The light was a soft red glow, the music was slow and jazzy. A long legged woman with fire engine red hair down to her waist - or perhaps a wig? - was in the spotlight now. The choreography was mesmerizing, and he recognized elements of acro yoga. He could have watched an entire evening of this woman’s skillful movements. 

After her song had ended, Rhett only stopped perseverating over the fact that she deserved a far better venue than Snow Bunnies when she slinked her way around the room to collect tips. He fumbled as quickly as he could to retrieve five dollars from his wallet. 

“You’re super talented!” He couldn’t resist telling her. 

“Thanks, honey,” she winked, perhaps still a bit in character. “Come back and see me sometime.” 

Rhett felt his cheeks burn at the sultriness in her voice. 

She blew him a kiss as she weaved her way to the next table.

His group teased him relentlessly after she left. “Ooooooh! Rhett’s in luuuurrv!”

“‘ _ Come back and see me sometime.’”  _ One of the guys cooed in a mockingly put-on high-pitched voice. 

Rhett rolled his eyes. “Not really my type.”

To her credit, Lake bit her naturally sharp tongue.

Rhett paused for a thoughtful moment before deciding that he was all in. He wasn’t doing this whole ‘half in the closet, half out’ bullshit. Not anymore. He couldn’t set this precedent. Sure, he may never see the guys from the other band again, but his bandmates… Lucas, David… He was already beginning to think of them as  _ family; _ and he knew firsthand how toxic it could feel to lie to your family. 

He was beginning to understand the note of emotional exhaustion that had been in Lake’s voice the day that she had tried to commiserate with him over the cumulative anguish of having to ‘come out’ again and again and again… 

But it was decidedly better than not saying anything. 

And it wouldn’t get any easier if he let this moment slide by.

So when Lucas said, “If that’s not your type, your standards are too high! She’s got it all...” 

Rhett bluntly replied, “She doesn’t have a dick.” 

The words fell out of his mouth as if they belonged to somebody else. Like he had astrally projected from his body to watch how this played out; how people reacted to this bold ‘stranger’s’ statement. 

There was a beat of silence, fleeting confusion and blank stares before David simply said, “Oh. Well, you’re on the wrong floor, my dude! You oughtta go  _ downstairs _ .”


	7. Chapter 7

“Downstairs?” Rhett looked over to Lake. “What’s downstairs?”

“That’s where the  _ male _ dancers perform,” Lake replied. Confirming his suspicions. 

“Snow Bunnies has male dancers?” Rhett asked dumbly, knowing that she’d just told him that. But kind of stalling when he internally searched to see if he had the nerve to check it out. But, hell. He’d come  _ this _ far tonight. 

“If you wanna go see,” Lake squeezed Rhett’s hand, “I’ll go with you.”

Rhett felt the heat that has crept up his neck and settled into his cheeks start to dissipate. He didn’t know if it was the liquid courage of a single shot, or riding the high of coming out to more people - more people who didn’t look at him in disgust, or kick him out of the group. But something was making Rhett feel brave. And he knew he was going to take Lake up on her offer. 

“And, just an FYI,” she told him, as she led him toward the stairs with their hands still clasped, “The upstairs club is Snow Bunnies, the downstairs is called the South Pole.”

Rhett rolled his eyes. “You’ve gotta be freakin kidding me…”

“It’s a strip club, Rhett! No pun left behind!” 

The second they arrived downstairs they were greeted by a dark haired, olive skinned man wearing nothing more than black wings, a black thong, and baby oil. This apparent fallen angel was more thickly muscled than was really Rhett’s type, like a stereotype of a dancer come to life from the pages of a Chippendale’s ad. 

“Welcome to the South Pole, where all your sinful desires can come true.”

Rhett didn’t know if he was into the whole ‘sinful desires’ schtick. He’d gotten his full of that in coming to terms with his sexuality in a small southern town. But he knew none of this was meant to be taken too seriously, and if the South Pole was maybe just a tacky joke about not being able to get any farther south than Hell? Again, he found himself thinking way too hard about the business mind of the owner of a strip club.

And that was not the purpose of his and Lake’s little field trip south. 

Rhett couldn’t be sure if the dancers were more casual about walking around the club down here than they were up in Snow Bunnies, or if Rhett simply had been oblivious to them up here. 

But here he saw several guys that he figured must be on staff. The Chippendale’s lookin guy hadn’t been working the door or anything, he just happened to be there when they walked down. There was a smaller guy with dirty brown curls dressed, or half dressed, as a firefighter leaning on the bar even as Rhett and Lake approached it to order a couple more beers. 

“Jeeeesus,” Rhett whispered under his breath, captivated as he watched a longer, leaner man with silvery blond hair rotate around a pole in one smooth movement. 

_ Maybe this place  _ is  _ sin… _

“Enjoying the view?” Lake asked, smirking and as she sipped her beer. “You look a million times more entertained than you did upstairs, and we haven’t even sat down yet.”

Rhett felt a little dizzy. He was a big man, he could hold his liquor; but maybe this would be his last beer all the same. 

They took a seat at a smaller pub style table for two.

“Well, Rhett. You ready for all your  _ sinful desires _ to come true?” She stuck her pointy tongue out and made little devil horns on either side of her head. 

“Oh yeah,” Rhett snarked, trying not to come off as…  _ affected _ as he was feeling. “Like I’m sitting down in Lucifer’s own living room.”

He was surrounded by sights that, he was just realizing, he hadn’t had a lot of practice in appreciating in public. He didn’t even really do much of it in private. He barely looked at porn, easy as it was to acquire. He usually just dreamed up some amalgamation of different aspects that he liked about guys that he encountered in real life. Like he wouldn’t let himself drink the whole man in. Not in public. Certainly not so the other person could tell. Rhett still struggled to envision a circumstance where his gaze could make someone feel flattered instead of uncomfortable. So he tried not to stare. Then, in the privacy of his apartment, where his mind and hands were free to roam, his mind would find the places in his brain where he’d filed things that he liked. The way someone’s suit cut their frame. The way a guy would smile. Broad shoulders. Narrow waist. Long neck. A nice haircut. A flash of blue eyes. 

Yeah, there’d been a lot of Blue Eyes populating his imagination lately.

But here, he was allowed to look. In fact, that was the whole point. And there was a lot to see... 

“You ever been some place like this?” Lake asked, like she’d read his mind. “Is it living up to the hype?”

“What hype?”

“Well, you must’ve been expecting  _ something _ when we came down here!”

Rhett looked down at the dance floor, then up at the podiums where the Go-Go boys were dancing. He turned to Lake and sipped his beer before responding. “I’m still trying to decide,” his lips twisted into a devilish grin, “I think a more thorough investigation is required.”

Lake giggled, and pulled Rhett up from his seat and dragged him toward the sparsely populated dance floor. 

They made their way through writhing bodies and carved a place for themselves right in the center of the floor. Lake immediately started dancing vigorously, putting her all into the song. It must have felt liberating, knowing that the majority of the other people out there weren’t giving her a second glance. Rhett was fully aware of being a little more reserved with what he hoped would pass for dance moves. He seemed to attract a bit of attention here and there without much trying. 

“Nice moves,” Rhett teased. “You should audition upstairs!”

Lake slapped him playfully. “You’re obviously jealous, because you haven’t got these moves.” She rolled her hips in a way that did make him a tad jealous. He needed to get back to that pilates class. And not  _ just _ to catch a glimpse of Link. They did stretches and exercises with names like ‘hip openers’. Seemed useful all of a sudden. “Now take your own sorry-ass moves somewhere else, or people are gonna think we’re  _ together!” _

“That’s okay. Or, I mean, it doesn’t matter. I’m not trying to, like, pick anyone up tonight.”

Lake moved her shoulders in an exaggerated mime of a heavy sigh.

“Suit yourself!”

The volume of the music made it impossible for them to continue talking, so they resigned to losing themselves swaying and twisting to the pulse of the beat. Twenty minutes passed before Rhett felt an insistent tugging at his sleeve. 

“There's a show starting on the main stage,” Lake shouted over the thump of the music. “We have to see this guy, apparently.”

“How do you know all this?” 

“The bar guy,” she shrugged, handing Rhett a bottle of beer, “Got you this, by the way. Cheers.”

Rhett grabbed the bottle and took a swig, feeling each sip and renewing his self-made vow that this be his last  _ last  _ beer. Rhett felt hands on his arm, pushing him towards the main stage, which had transformed from a dark shadow at the front of the room into a luminous beacon of light. The background was illuminated by glowing, red lights, which made the pole in the middle of the stage look like a black staff. A silhouette. Everything in this place felt like a shadow, mystic and unreal, liable to disappear at any moment. The performers were ghosts.

The lights dimmed and the crowd fell silent, all eyes fixed on the stage, waiting for the dancer to appear.

Rhett felt a fizz of excitement course through his blood as they waited.

Silence.

A filter of smoke began to line the floor of the stage. When the lights came back up they revealed the dark outline of a man standing in the middle, hand resting on the pole, back turned to the audience.

Slow, soft-rock began to filter through the speakers. Rhett was surprised as he recognized it as a David Bowie song. Dreamy. Ethereal. Feminine. Perfectly suited to the dancer on stage. He was the same slender, white-blond man that had drawn Rhett’s eye earlier. He turned to face the audience, each movement precise and calculated, matching the tempo of the music. His body was composed of long limbs, pulled into perfect control, dressed in tight white leather pants that looked about to burst at the seams under the pressure of strong thighs. A smurf blue fur coat was the only thing covering his bare chest.

His lips were bright red.

The dancer wrapped his fingers around the length of the pole and completed two full revolutions in one fluid movement, then stood with his spine against it and let his head fall back to rest against the metal, exposing his neck. Everything was painfully slow, like foreplay, building to a climax. It was like black magic, and Rhett could feel it working on him, possessing him. He felt hypnotised.

Slowly, the dancer began to walk towards the edge of the stage, closer to the audience, who all reached out to try and touch. The dancer smiled slightly at this, then slowly began unbuttoning his coat, letting it fall open. The fabric fell over one pale shoulder, then slipped down until it was on the ground, leaving him in only a pair of leather pants.

“Fuckin' tease,” Rhett heard himself mutter under his breath. 

“This your type, Rhett?” Lake quirked an eyebrow and her teeth glinting in the surreal lighting. 

“Certainly not bad on the eyes.” Rhett wondered if he was successfully downplaying how hot the performance was making him feel. 

“I’ll give you that.”

The dancer fluttered his eyelashes back up, and unbuttoned the top of his pants, smiling as the crowd went wild for that small gesture. He unzipped his fly and let it fall open, exposing a thin shimmering trail of hair running from his navel down to his pubic bone, then turned away from the audience and sat on his knees in front of the pole, arching his back into it, letting the movements pull the leather waistband of his pants down naturally. He let his hands slip over his body in light movements, just enough to tease, to let the audience imagine in their wildest dreams that they would  _ ever _ get to touch him in that same way.

When the music ended, the stage was littered with dollar bills, even as the performer remained near fully clothed. He pressed his fingers to his thin, red lips and blew a kiss to the audience, then slinked away.

The lights came back up, and Rhett fell back into reality.

“Well,” Lake said, her eyes still fixed on the empty stage. “That was… something.”

“Yeah, I’ll say. I don’t think that man is from this world.” Rhett felt lightheaded. “I think I gotta sit down. The lights and the drinks. I’m not gonna be able to see straight.”

“Sure, why don’t I grab us a couple of waters and we’ll stay for like… one or two more dancers? If they’re anything like that last dude, I’m gonna be seeing more straight than I’m comfortable admitting!” 

Lake slapped him on the back, and headed back to the bar. If Rhett had had his wits about him, he might have shouted after her to thank the bartender for the head’s up about the last performer. 

When Lake returned to the seating area with their waters, Rhett took a deep breath.

“Yeah, I think this last dance is gonna have to be it for me. It’s been a long day. Fun and all. Uh… educational? But I’m tired, and those drinks we had starting back at work are all starting to catch up with me.”

“I hear that.”

They clinked their water glasses together, and turned their glassy eyes toward the main stage.

The lights dim, and the fog machine starts up again. This time when the lights returned, they were not soft or colorful. They were sharp, bright and all contrast; an almost strobed effect flashing up on the main stage, making Rhett feel funny - or funnier than the booze was already making him feel. 

_ Maybe this is a dream, _ he thinks to himself.  _ This is even more surreal than the last guy. _

The whole world seemed to slow down as the music began to pulse low and strong. Like a heartbeat. Rhett could feel the pulsing from within his own body, and he didn’t know if he loved or hated how immersive this atmosphere was beginning to feel.

A lithe form took the stage, clothed in black leather, dark hair shaved on one side and styled in a gravity defying swoop like some sort of glam rocker… The man’s collar bones were sharp and ghostly white in the lighting. Gorgeous contrast with the dark hair and black pants. 

And then the bottom fell out of Rhett’s stomach as jumping out at him, like a splash of color added for emphasis in an otherwise black and white comic: piercing blue eyes. 

Captivating, just like the man who owned them and had ensnared Rhett’s mind for months.

The dancer - Rhett’s consciousness was struggling to fully complete the circuit in his mind and just call him Link - reached the pole at the center of the stage. He reached one hand out to grab it, swinging himself in a fluid circle around it. 

Rhett felt an odd and desperate compulsion to lock eyes with him. Even though the idea terrified him. It was like being unable to look away from a slasher movie. He  _ had to  _ see, but he also felt that there was something intimate about this. Like he was struggling to draw the line between the cute pilates instructor that had given him his phone number, and this force of nature and raw sexuality performing on stage. 

_This is a character_ , Rhett told himself. _This is different from the_ real _Link_ _that I made a_ real _connection with…_

Link leaned his slim muscled body back against the pole as his body sensually undulated to the music. His hands rubbed his long slender neck before sliding down his body. He caught his plump lip between sharp teeth as gloved fingers stopped to tease at his nipples. His hand slipped further down, sliding over his sides and his hips, lightly tugging at the waist of the waist of the pants. But before they could travel any lower, Link spun around, turning his back to the crowd. His hips swayed hypnotically in perfect rhythm. Agile fingers reaching up to unzip - no, Rhett realized -  _ unlace  _ the tight leather pants. 

Rhett’s pants grew tighter as well, as each inch by inch of Link’s skin was gradually revealed. 

Link spun back around and slowly, teasingly, peeled the pants from his legs, letting them fall into a dark heap at his feet.

The audience went wild, and Rhett’s blood ran cold. 

He wasn’t jealous. That wasn’t the right word for this feeling. He felt… foolish.

What if this was  _ not  _ unrelated to the Link that Rhett had felt he’d connected with. What if it was part of a stripper’s job to be charismatic and lure in new clientele? What if Rhett had made the quintessential mistake of falling in love with an exotic dancer, and had the audacity to think that he had been anything special? It at least made a lot more sense now. Why such a good looking guy would take an interest in a mess of a guy like Rhett… He was an easy target.

_ Of course _ Rhett was into him.

So was everyone else in the club that night.

Rhett felt like he was going to faint. The tiny lace panties that Link was left in left little to the imagination. Even soft, the bulge was impressive. Rhett tried to put his feelings aside, and appreciate the show as intended. Memorize the sight of Link like this. Rationally, Rhett knew that there was no way Link’s legs could be as long as his own, but right now they seemed  _ endless _ .

Link turned back around to gift his audience with the display of the back of the panties. Completely sheer with a small black bow at the top. 

Despite his squashed illusions of a relationship with this freakin’ greek god of a man, Rhett had to press the heel of his palm against his hardened cock for some kind of relief as Link bent over, looking back over his shoulder with a seductive smirk.

And then it happened.

Link’s blue eyes incidentally found Rhett’s. 

The thumping, seductive beat of the music, the catcalls and whistles and cheers all went silent as Rhett’s ears rang with nothing but white noise.

Nothingness. 

Stillness.

In this split second where their eyes met, Link’s expression was unreadable. But there  _ had  _ been some sort of… microreaction? Rhett was sure that he’d seen it. Link froze for a fraction of a moment.

But Link turned his back to the crowd, and when he eventually faced them again he did not look in Rhett’s direction. 

_ There was something there,  _ Rhett told himself. He knew there was  _ something  _ in Link’s face, composed as he had appeared. Professional that he was.

The fact that he’d reacted at all was very satisfying to Rhett. He had no idea what to feel, and knew himself well enough to know he wasn’t going to figure it all out under the influence of this many drinks on top of a bad night’s sleep. 

So he did the only thing he could at a time like this. 

He sat back and enjoyed the show. 

There was some kind of body glitter painting portions of Link’s flawless skin that he hadn’t noticed initially. It sparkled under the flashing lights making him look all the more whimsical and impossible than he already appeared. His eyes were heavily made up with blue over one eye and pink over another; again, in very dramatic and glam fashion. It was more paint than eye shadow. 

He moved like liquid across the stage grinding against the pole, the floor, the air. The way he wielded his hips made Rhett physically  _ ache _ . 

Rhett was only made aware of the way that he was clenching his hands around the edge of the table as Lake covered one of his white-knuckled hands with her smaller one, and looked at him with concern. 

_ Let her think it’s just the booze,  _ he thought to himself, as he gestured to her that he was doing okay. He made a conscious effort to relax his jaw, shoulders and grip all in unison. 

His eyes drifted back to Link’s pert nipples. Was it cold up there? Or was performing like this for a crowd turning him on? Rhett’s eyes darted down toward the bulge behind black lace. Those delicate panties looked like they would be so easy to tear off…

He forced himself to look back up at his face, but Link kept his eyes lowered. 

Then another flash of blue as Link looked up at him from under long, thick eyelashes. 

This time Link’s lips curled into the smallest hint of a smile. The corner of Link’s mouth twitched, barely perceptible. 

Rhett had no idea what to do with  _ any  _ of this information. 

The rest of the performance passed in a haze of pale skin and leather. 

Lake led Rhett out of the club as soon as Link exited the stage. 

“Are you gonna be all right, Rhett? I felt like I was losing you there at times.”

“I’m just... exhausted, man. Completely and utterly wiped. I need to sleep for, like, a whole freakin day.”

Lake smiled. “But when you do sleep, who ya gonna dream about: the blond or the brunet?”

Rhett held his tongue. He considered telling Lake that he had met ‘the brunet’ before. But he decided against it. He hadn’t fully processed what he thought about all this, and he knew that he wasn’t ready to work through it with anyone else. Not even Lake. The most understanding person he’d ever had the good fortune of meeting. 

He simply wasn’t ready to admit that the small town boy had gone and fallen in love with a stripper. Like he’d had ‘sucker’ tattooed across his forehead. 

So he did what he’d always done best. He deflected. 

“Why are you trying to limit my dreams with words like  _ or _ ?” He waggled his eyebrow playfully. “Why not both?” 

The quip had the intended effect, and Lake cackled along with him as they walked away from Snow Bunnies… and the South Pole. 

When Rhett got home, Rhett’s mind remained restless, but he fell asleep the instant his head hit the pillow all the same.

——————

The entire night had seemed so dreamlike and surreal, when he woke up the next day he wasn’t completely sure what to believe. 

He swung his legs over the side of his bed, and his head throbbed. 

He was gathering the will to walk toward the bathroom to grab some ibuprofen when he noticed something sloppily scrawled in his journal. 

Some of it seemed a little out there, but other bits still resonated with him even as his head began to clear with the morning light. 

Things about Link…

Things about himself...

_ You were trying to give off a silent sound _

_ But you’ve found another path and now you’re walking on the grass  _

_ And you were trying to get hurt again, _

_ Well, you like a life alone, _

_ Cause you know who’s looking on. _

_ And you’re standing on the edge _

_ Think you might jump in again. _

_ The scent of salt water on the shore _

_ And your bed is in his sands _

_ Your heart is in his soil. _

_ Oh, if I didn’t know. _

_ You’re swimming in the blue eyes. _

_ Swimming in the blue eyes. _

_ You’re hanging your clothes out under the larger evening sun _

_ And I’m wondering when neglected _

_ The lateness of the hour and the distant dancer’s arms. _

_ I’m petrified by the artist in the glass _

_ And at the speed these things could pass. _

_ The days are long and nights are brilliant blue _

_ We’ve been up, out in the water, _

_ Cracking laughter and coming through. _

_ But the spirit in your eyes _

_ And the deepness of your smile _

_ It turns me into hope. _

_ I’m swimming in the blue eyes. _

_ Swimming in the blue eyes. _

_ A flash of lights in my head _

_ When the nights are warm. _

_ I’m half asleep, floating in water _

_ Dreaming on the shore. _

_ Swimming in the blue eyes. _

_ Swimming in the blue eyes. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The lyrics that Rhett scrawls in his journal are totally lifted and bastardized from The Rosebuds song _Blue Eyes_ .


	8. Chapter 8

Rhett had a busy next couple days, which was helpful in distracting him from his stripper conundrum. 

_ How the heck did I become the type of guy that has a stripper conundrum? _

His boss’s main venue had had some higher profile shows, and had been utilizing Rhett’s size as a presence at the front door. That meant interacting with a lot of people. A lot of drunk people at that. Not a lot of down time to stew in his thoughts. 

During the occasional quieter moments when his thoughts did find a place to land, he was torn between two competing lines of thought. 

On one hand, Link - it turned out - was a stripper. A freakin gorgeous one, too. He was not only out of Rhett’s league, Rhett reckoned he was playing a whole other sport. Rhett was just starting to understand his own sexuality, and Link appeared to be the absolute embodiment of living it out loud! Rhett felt was a freshman at gay community college while Link was out there defending his PhD in front of Ivy League professors of homosexuality.

But on the other hand, strippers were people too, right? 

Was his small town, small mindedness making him a sucker for falling for a dancer? Or was it causing him to judge Link unfairly; and put him on a pedestal, objectifying him as unattainable or worse - unlovable?

He decided to err on the side of compassion. If the worst thing that could happen was making himself look stupid - well, it wouldn’t be the first time. And feeling silly or naive hadn’t killed him this far. The alternative of not giving Link a fair shot, and not treating him decently based on his profession… Rhett already felt like an ass for having even considered that path. 

After all, his job wasn’t the only thing that Rhett knew about him. 

It wasn’t his only job: he was a fitness instructor, which… made a lot of sense now. The dancers at the South Pole were more talented than your standard go-go dancer. Rhett had noticed Olympic gymnast rings and a pull up bar in addition to the stripper pole. They’d have to be seriously athletic to make use of them. 

He liked country music. 

He’d liked Rhett’s voice. 

He’d wanted to get to know Rhett better. 

Rhett reflected on that moment when Link had given him his number. He was charming, sure. But he had been so damn sincere. 

If it was some kind of scam, or long con to ultimately get Rhett to the South Pole; maybe Link deserved to get him.

Rhett was still debating if, or exactly how, he should go about forcing another crossing of their paths when he arrived for his open mic performance at the coffee shop. The same one where he first met the eyes that had been torturing him ever since. 

It was a Sunday night, and the venue was pretty quiet. He peeked his head in at the bar downstairs to give Lake a wave before heading upstairs to get set up. 

“Hey, man,” Lucas greeted him as he approached the front stage area, offering to help him with his modest equipment. “Someone was looking for you earlier. A guy?” 

Rhett’s heart didn’t seem to know if it should speed up, arrest, or explode. 

“Yeah?” Rhett tried to play it cool. “This guy gotta name?” 

“I didn’t realize you had so many dudes vying for your attention, or I woulda paid closer attention to details. Dark hair, glasses? Liam? Lance? Something with an L. He said you’ve got his number, so…”

Rhett kicked the single raised step that led up to the stage area, and hardly felt the sting radiate through the toe of his boot. 

“I do  _ not  _ have his freakin number!”

Lucas’s jaw dropped and his eyes widened at Rhett’s volatile reaction. 

“I’m sorry… I didn’t—“

Rhett sighed, “I’m sorry. It’s not your fault. I know you’re just the messenger here. This has all just been... real frustrating. And confusing. And. Shit.”

“If it makes you feel better, I think I’d recognize him if he ever comes back in. I can… follow up?”

Rhett was feeling like a real dick for blowing up at Lucas. And he figured there was a good chance he was going to regret what he did next, too. 

“I think I gotta skip my set tonight.”

“Really? For this Lance guy?”

“Link. His name is Link. And I don’t think he’ll come back again. He’s already made a couple of good efforts. And there’s a possibility he might think I’m avoiding him.”

“I mean, it’s no problem. There’s plenty of other people that would probably wanna go up tonight. Oli won’t pay you for tonight…”

“That’s fine! I’ll do some other night. It’s fine.” Rhett frantically began packing his guitar back up. He at least had to drop it off at his apartment before trying to go out and find Link. 

—————

Rhett had no way of knowing if Link would be working at the South Pole tonight. He was fully aware that he might be wasting his $20 cover, minimally. 

There were two bouncers at the door checking ID, Rhett recognized the one guy - probably about his same age. He looked like he might be an MMA fighter in his spare time. The other guy was a little older, softer muscle. Like a retired police officer. Rhett didn’t think he was here the last time Rhett was. Despite Rhett’s casual effort to not make too much eye contact with Mr MMA, he recognized him. 

The man’s grey eyes looked at him, more curious than judgmental. “You pick odd days to come here.”

“Mind your business, Telly,” the older doorman said, casual and disinterested. Rhett never would have said it out loud, but he was grateful.

“I’m not being deliberately bossy, bro. But you stick out like a sore thumb at your height. What are your? Six and a half feet tall?”

“Somethin like that,” Rhett muttered, thinking of all the things he’d be willing to part with the make this conversation end. 

“But what, Thursday night and now Sunday? You’re missing the best nights! There’ way more people here! Themes, collaborations, the dancers save all their best routines for Friday and Saturday.”

“I’m not tryna be a regular,” Rhett said, his patience palpably slipping. 

“Twice a week is pretty regular, wouldn’t ya say, Daryl?”

‘Daryl’ rolled his world weary eyes. “Let the man go about his business.”

“Do you work odd hours, and just happen to have Thursdays and Sundays off? Like. Shift work? A factory, a nurse?”

“Do I look like a dang nurse?!” Rhett snapped. 

Telly looked mildly wounded. “I’m a nurse. I just do this for some extra cash.”

“I’m sorry, man. I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Nah, it’s cool. Not a lot of guys go into nursing. Probably even fewer that look like me.”

“It doesn’t seem like an easy job. I’m sure your strength comes in handy sometimes with unruly patients. The world probably needs more nurses like you.”

Rhett didn’t know how the heck he found himself apologizing to a nosey bouncer (slash nurse) at a strip club, thanking him for his service like he was a military veteran. 

“You here to see someone in particular? Maybe hoping for a thinner crowd?” Daryl finally seemed to be taking an interest. Or maybe he was just in a rush to cut the crap and get this exchange over with. 

Rhett couldn’t find the words to explain what he was doing there. But Daryl didn’t give him a lot of time to fumble before picking the conversation up where he’d left it. 

“I get it, man. You fell in love with a stripper. So what? We all do it. It’s a rite of passage. Happened to me, too. I went out once with a buddy of mine, and we were at a table just shootin the breeze. The dancers were more like wallpaper than entertainment. When all of a sudden somethin sparkly caught my eye on stage. And that’s when I fell in love. Panties down at her knees, and she was makin that booty clap. With each rotational pull her cheeks swung apart revealing a golden sequined butt plug, lodged up in her ass.” Daryl looked off wistfully. “She was, and forever will be, the woman of my dreams.”

Rhett was. Speechless. 

Telly clapped Daryl on the back, as if to ease the memory, or thank him for sharing with the group. 

“Can I… go inside?” Rhett prompted. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Telly waved him in. “Have a good time, big man.”

Rhett went directly down to the South Pole, not wasting any time tonight. He scanned the floor, and recognized a lot of the performers that he’d seen around the club the first time. But there was no sign of Link. He was beginning to think he’d wasted his time, and went through that whole ordeal with the bouncers for nothing. 

The dancer with the white-blond hair was coming his way, and Rhett tried to move out of his path. But apparently he was approaching Rhett intentionally. He was wearing tights that looked like they were made from those space blankets that they hand out to runners after marathons; and white boots laced all the way up to his knees. He wore a loose white button up shirt, completely unbuttoned and open to reveal an impossible body that looked like it was chiseled from marble. Rhett felt an urge to touch this ethereal, perpetually space age aesthetic looking, creature before him. But he doesn’t really know the rules. And this also was not the purpose of tonight’s visit. How do you politely decline a dancer’s attention?  _ I appreciate the offer, and have filed this image in my mind… for reasons. But my idiot heart belongs to another stripper. So I just don’t have time for this right now.  _ They didn’t exactly teach this kind of etiquette at any school he’d gone to. 

“Link’s shift is over.” The voice that came out of the man that was swaying seductively before Rhett was not what he’d expected. It was lower. It was almost impossible to hear over the music. 

“Excuse me?”

“You’re Link’s friend aren’t you?” 

“I- Yeah, maybe.” 

The dancer smirked and rolled his eyes. “I can get him for you. He hasn’t left yet. Probably not even dressed yet.”

“Uh. I just want to talk with him, he can wear… whatever he wants. But.”

“That’s generous of you.”

“That’s not what I meant. I just-“

Blondie leaned over as another dancer passed by and whispered something in his ear. Rhett was feeling extremely uncomfortable. The man’s tone was so dry. So deadpan. It was impossible to tell if he was giving Rhett a hard time and teasing him in a friendly way, or if he just didn’t like him. The dancers probably had to be protective or one another. Rhett blushed as he considered that he surely wasn’t the first patron to develop an unhealthy obsession… How did Rocket Man here know that Rhett wasn’t a stalker?

Then again, he seemed to know about Rhett… And the only way that was possible was if Link had talked about him. And Link had gone to Rhett’s work looking for him before Rhett had come here looking for Link. Link had given Rhett his number. Rhett had to stop feeling like this was a one-sided pursuit.

Between his frantic thoughts and the gorgeous guy keeping him company while he waited, Rhett didn’t notice immediately when Link appeared behind his taller colleague. He tapped the guy on the shoulder like they were at a dance and Link was asking if he could cut in. 

“Just keepin him warm for ya,” he smiled warmly, with maybe just a hint of mischief, before stepping aside for Link and immediately moving on. 

Rhett cleared his throat, before speaking. But suddenly found himself unsure of what to say. 

“You came back for me!” Link said, grinning wide, lips still painted in red lipstick. Rhett assumed that the lips and the smokey eye makeup had been from an earlier performance. The first couple of times Rhett had seen him before the South Pole, he hadn’t been wearing makeup. But he looked pretty casual otherwise, in a light denim button down shirt and dark denim pants rolled up to the knee. Yeah, Rhett was pretty sure he’d caught him between outfits. 

He still looked incredible. 

“You want a private dance?”

“I, uh…” Rhett couldn’t believe that was a real thing. He only knew about them from pop culture references. And based on those he wasn’t sure if the joke was what happened in private rooms, or what  _ didn’t  _ happen. And while he was thinking of all the strip club etiquette he was lacking, something else occurred to him. “Hey. Was I supposed to tip that guy dancing here a second ago?”

“He was just doing me a favor, making sure you didn’t run off before I could make myself decent enough to come back out here and catch you. He owes me at least one favor. So we’re all square here.”

“Ah.”

“So. How bout that dance?”

“Aren’t you, uh... off the clock now?”

“I wasn’t gonna charge you, dummy. Consider it a free sample.”

That didn’t sit well with Rhett. He’d already successfully talked himself out of suspecting that he was just a business venture to Link. But something about a ‘free sample’ tempted him to talk himself back into that as a possibility.

“I can’t let you do that,” Rhett said, regret just setting up shop thick in his throat. He’d seen Link’s pilates moves. Seen him on stage. He could imagine what it might be like having Link moving just for him. So close. He’d stupidly been at the back of the pilates class. And their table had seemed a little too far away the last time he’d watched him dance. He imagined Link working his body for Rhett from just a few feet away. Or close enough to touch. The words ‘lap dance’ kept floating around his mind. “I’d feel guilty. Because that makes it seem like I might come back and pay. Become a regular, and that eventually you’d get your money back. And I’m just… not really a regular stripper type of guy. No offense. I mean, I don’t even know if what I said was offensive. I just—“

Link pressed a finger to Rhett’s lips to halt his rambling.

“Do you feel guilty taking free samples from the grocery store?”

Rhett shook his head. 

“Do you ever finish the sample, and then go buying in bulk?”

Rhett shook his head again. 

“Then come with me, Rhett.” His name on Link’s crimson lips sounded better than any pet name anyone had ever called him. Even in more intimate settings. Locking eyes with him was almost too intense, but Rhett held his gaze like it was a challenge he’d accepted. “I want us to do the one thing that the overwhelming majority of folks wanna do when they ask for a private room. I just wanna talk.”


	9. Chapter 9

Rhett could feel the heat rising up the back of his neck as he followed Link to the private room. There was a chair in the center of the room that Link led him to sit down in. The mirrored wall in front of Rhett was lined with a long sofa that seemed more benchlike than something you’d find in someone’s living room. 

The lights were dimmed and the colors were soft. 

“That one of those two-way mirror window thingies?”

“Nah, it’s just for your viewing pleasure.” Link wiggled his eyebrows. He rolled his hips in front of Rhett. “In the event that you can tear your eyes away from what’s going on in front of your face, you can cast your eyes in the mirror to see what’s going on on the back end. Or maybe to see what we look like together rather than your default first person point of view.” Link shrugged casually. “I don’t know what kind of market testing has been done, but I believe the industry consensus is that mirrors are a good thing in these private rooms. But there  _ is _ video surveillance, for my protection. Big guy like you? You’re probably gonna wanna remain seated so the security staff doesn’t get the wrong idea about you, and come running to my rescue. It’s  _ video _ . Not audio. So speak freely, just keep your dick in your pants.”

“I wasn’t gonna—!”

“Relax, Rhett. I’m just messing around with ya.”

“Do people really…?”

“Yeah, sometimes. Couple times a week probably. But it’s not usually a problem, ya know? I just tell ‘em, ‘Hey. You gotta put that away, or I’m outta here.’ That usually works. I’ve only had to actually walk out once in the six years I’ve been dancing. Most guys really are good about it, and do what you say.”

“That just sounds… gosh, man. I dunno.”

Link shrugged. “It’s not the worst thing that goes on back here.” 

“Do I even wanna know?”

Link paused thoughtfully, then he began to tell his story in a very animated fashion. He was a good storyteller, Rhett realized. He could imagine him riveting a friend group at brunch, or commanding the table at a family gathering with even the most mundane of tales. Rhett couldn’t tear his eyes off his red lipstick as he spoke. “I was giving this one guy a lap dance. Like. You know, literally, I’m  _ there _ dancing in his lap. And suddenly the back of my thigh is  _ wet _ , so I was like, ‘What on earth?’ And the dude just kinda looks embarrassed and is like ‘Oh. I just came.’ All matter-of-fact. Like, it had soaked through his pants. Freakin  _ nasty _ . I did walk out on that dude. It’s not funny, like - give some sort of sign sign so I won’t sit in it! Now that it’s happened to me, I just tell them straight up, ‘Listen. When I’m dancing, you gotta  _ not _ do that. If you’re gonna come, please just warn a guy so I can stop dancing.’”

Rhett knew his jaw couldn’t be literally on the floor. But in his heart, his jaw was on the freakin floor. 

“But it’s like I said before we came back here, the private rooms are almost always a lot of talking. I rarely dance for an hour straight. A lot of customers just wanna talk to me. I’ve got guys that I don’t even bother gettin’ undressed for, they just wanna talk. They like confessing things they wouldn’t normally tell other people, like… sexual secrets. Emotional secrets. Get random crap off their chest. They like the attention. Being listened to. Some guys really do get all emotional and start tearin’ up. One time there was a guy that told me about his whole life, like his childhood and all that - he teared up a little at the end and said he had a really good time. That it really relaxed him. People think dancers make a lot of money by lookin’ pretty naked. But it’s not always about who’s the prettiest, sexiest, whatever. I think I make most my money by bein’ a good listener. I’m like a therapist in a thong.” 

Rhett couldn’t suppress a chuckle at that.

“Did you really wanna use this time to talk shop with me, Rhett?”

“I mean, it  _ is  _ interesting... I don’t know any other… dancers.”

“So you’ve said. You aren’t a ‘regular strip club kinda guy’. And yet, here you are. Again.”

Rhett swore that Link was putting on a voice in trying to mimic him as he quoted his own words back to him. Like an affectionately irritated spouse of too many years. He was somewhat flattered by the intimacy of it, but also tempted to protest that  _ that _ was not what he sounded like. But the overarching sentiment that he wanted to convey was: 

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m listening…”

“I didn’t mean anything by saying I didn’t come to these kinds of clubs a lot, aside from trying to explain that I’m out of my depth.”

Link’s head tilted slightly, like a curious pet acting like they understood human-speak. Rhett could only hope he was getting his point across better than that. 

“And being... curious about your job… It really is interesting. But that’s not why I came here, no.  _ You’re _ interesting.  _ I’m _ interested in you. 

Link eased back on the sofa, facing Rhett with his legs crossed, ankle lightly bouncing - the only sign that he was not as calm as he appeared; was he nervous, or ansty, would he have been more comfortable dancing for Rhett than sitting down to finally talk with him? His arms draped across the back of the seat. Rhett could almost see his on stage persona as it faded before his eyes. He began to relax more. His shadowy eyes slipped comfortably shut as he patiently waited for Rhett to speak again. Rhett couldn’t help himself taking in the broad expanse of his shoulders as his arms were spread to their full wingspan. The contrast between the strength there and the delicate taper of his waist made Rhett’s knees weak. He was glad he was sitting down. 

Rhett tried to think of where to begin. 

“I… I lost your number.”

That made Link smile. “I was hoping that it was something like that, and not that you had decided you didn’t wanna use it.”

“I  _ really _ wanted to call you. Like, I was devastated when I lost it.” Rhett paused there, ‘devastated’ was the correct word for the pit that Rhett had allowed himself to sink into that night. But Link didn’t have all the information to map that spiral and understand that it was not as simple as Rhett being desperate, horny or lovestruck. Though, maybe one or two of those did apply to him. 

“And then I saw you  _ here _ , and. Well, I don’t know why that was jarring to me. Like I said, I’m a little out of my depth. I  _ was _ gonna come back to your class—“

“You should! You were good at it!” Now Link paused, and he would’ve given a week’s wages to know what he was considering in their momentary silence. “But yeah, I was kinda worried that seein’ me working here shook you. I mean, I saw you at a coffee shop singing a country song and speaking with a dialect that l, well - I haven’t heard either one of those things regularly out in the wild since I moved here over a decade ago—“

“That’s not me!”

Link stopped talking, and looked surprised by the resolve in Rhett’s voice. 

“I mean, it was me, but that’s not why I didn’t call. I’m not so small town, or small minded that I’m gonna start clutching my pearls about where you work. I’m from the south, but that’s not who  _ I am _ . That’s why I moved here, man. I didn’t fit in there. I wasted a lot of people’s time trying. Expecting I was meant to stay there forever. And I know that I might not fit in here either, but I had to try something else. And the country music thing—“

A bright smile spread across Link’s face that cut Rhett off more sharply than any quick word could have possibly done. It wasn’t wry or mocking. It was warm and empathetic. Rhett suspected, or maybe hoped, that maybe Link had been in his place when he first moved out here - now that he’d alluded to being from the south, and he  _ knew _ he had heard a lilt to his voice that first night at the cafe. Something beyond the natural human tendency to mimic and merge with the speaking patterns of whoever you’re talking with. Rhett really wanted to believe that. He was only starting to realize how desperate he was for somebody who might have a clue what he was going through. 

And if that somebody happened to come in the breathtaking form of a gorgeous, empathetic dancer… Well, so much the better. 

Link spoke softly without being condescending. “You don’t have to explain away country music, Rhett. Don’t worry, we’ve gotten the memo,” He winked. “Cowboys can be gay, too.”

“Link,” Rhett sighed. “I  _ wanted _ to call you. But I had a couple busy days; and yeah, I did lose my nerve there for a moment. This is kind of a lot for me right now… But. When you came looking for me  _ first _ . I knew that if I didn’t get my shit together, I wasn’t likely gonna get a  _ third _ chance.” 

Talking to Link was entirely too easy for Rhett. This was the longest conversation they’d ever shared, but Rhett felt like he could comfortably spill his guts - which was not typically within Rhett’s character, to be such an open book. But it was so natural with Link, it was like he’d known him his entire life. Or maybe a past life. Rhett was struck with the abstract notion that a past life made more sense than not. It would explain the discomfort and aching of trying to find him again and again in the short time he’d been made aware of his existence in this life. 

Realistically, though. Rhett wasn’t sure how much he  _ should _ share. He felt as if he’d already said enough to give Link a not wholly inaccurate impression that Rhett had a lot of baggage.

And he didn’t want to scare him away. Link didn’t look like he scared easy, but even kind and decent people had their limits on how much hand holding they were willing to do. Rhett didn’t want to be a burden, or some kind of project for Link. He wanted to feel like he had something to offer. “I have a bit of a history of bad decisions, and I didn’t wanna add screwing this up to that list.”

“We got something here to screw up, Rhett?”

Link looked cool and collected, mildly entertained even. Meanwhile, Rhett felt like he was sweating bullets and really laying it all out there for Link. It should have been… infuriatingly frustrating. But Rhett didn’t feel vulnerable or exposed. He felt seen. And he couldn’t help but feed off of Link’s calm energy, and mirror his amusement at the situation.

Rhett chuckled. “Well, not yet! But I’m gonna be honest, I’m hoping so. And I think that I have the kind of talent to fuck it up before it’s even started… And I don’t wanna do that.”

“Then let’s get started!” 

Link sprang to his feet, and Rhett’s eyes widened.

“Not  _ here _ . Lemme finish gettin’ changed, and we’ll… go on a date?”

“Now?”

“You got somewhere else to be, big man?”

Rhett snorted at the sass. “I was supposed to be at work myself, as a matter of fact. I’m losing a night’s pay over you.”

“Gosh, Rhett,” Link snarked. “You must be  _ really _ into me… Don’t worry about that whole ‘lost night’s pay’ thing. I’ll take you out. I mean… I don’t typically socialize with clients like this, but since you’ve made it crystal clear that you have  _ no intention _ of becoming my ‘regular’... I think I can make an exception.”

Rhett hoped that the dim lighting and artificial colors masked at least a little bit of the blush that he knew must be spread across his warm cheeks by now. He wasn’t used to dating, let alone being… taken care of like this. 

_ Just go with it _ , he told himself. Link walked up to where Rhett remained obediently seated, remembering what Link had mentioned about standing up in the private room with the video surveillance and all that. From this proximity, and his seated position putting him eye level with Link’s crotch, he could see that he’d been mistaken about the fabric of Link’s pants. It wasn’t dark denim, but a lighter fabric made to resemble denim. Made a lot more sense for dancing, and a lot more… _ form fitting _ as it lightly covered Link’s body, tenting conspicuously over the front. Rhett didn’t think he could be imagining the half hard state of him. Even if it was some kind of… fabric illusion… it was enough to give Rhett ideas. And make him self conscious of his own situation. 

“And for the record,” Link told him, extending a hand to help him up out of the chair. “You didn’t have to be so concerned over gettin’ more than a second chance. You likely woulda gotten fourth, fifth,  _ and  _ sixth chances with me. I may not have given up any wages over you, but I assure you - I am  _ really _ into you, too.”


	10. Chapter 10

Rhett waited for Link to exchange his makeup for dark framed glasses before meeting him in the parking lot behind the club. He looked more like the Link that Rhett had met that first time at the cafe. The one that somehow made Rhett’s heart beat faster than the one taking his clothes off on stage. 

Link insisted on driving, which was fine by Rhett as Rhett knew he wouldn’t have the first clue where to drive them. At least Link knew the city. 

Link pulled into a parking lot, and turned the car off. 

“So the whole ‘queer-friendly cowboy’ thing gave me an idea.”

Rhett playfully rolled his eyes. “Okay, pardner. I’m listening.”

“I don’t know if it’s a dumb idea, because you sing for your work and all. And I’m not exactly a  _ great _ singer, though that’s never stopped me…”

Rhett thought it was nice to not be the one with verbal diarrhea for once. 

“...I just would really like to sing with you, Rhett.”

Rhett felt his whole body flush warmly. 

“There’s this country-western karaoke bar in this part of town—” 

“That sounds… okay, first of all: Oddly specific, like it was plucked right out of one of my dreams.”

“You dream about singin’ karaoke at a gay bar with me, Rhett?”

“I’m daydreaming about it right now, actually.”

And it did feel like a dream. He could hardly believe that he was out here. On a date. With this beautiful guy. Comfortably flirting. 

Unreal. 

“The people that come here are mostly into the aesthetic. Like, I don’t know how many actually enjoy country music on their own time. There’ll probably be a lot of crossover pop songs. Some Taylor Swift. I doubt we’ll escape without a full-bar singalong of  _ Friends in Low Places _ .”

“Link,” Rhett surprised himself by grabbing Link’s hand as he slowed their roll. “I’m not a country snob. Or a purist, or whatever. I just want to have fun tonight. And to get to know you for more than five minutes before one of us has to run off.”

“I know, I guess I’m just a little nervous. I don’t want you to think I’m… I dunno. Superficial? Because of the whole… stripper... thing?”

Rhett didn’t know what to say. How was it that Link, who was so sure of himself and comfortable in all these surroundings that were so foreign to Rhett… How was it that he was the one vulnerably sharing his insecurities out under the streetlights? It made Rhett want to scoop him up in his arms and kiss him until his lips were redder than they’d been with the lipstick on.

Instead, he just stood there, dumbly shaking his head slowly. 

“Okay, okay,” Link said. Gathering himself before they went into the club. “Like you said. Have fun. Get to know one another. Last more than five minutes.”

Rhett barked out a laugh that nearly knocked the wind from him. And the way that his laughter caused Link’s smile to brighten… Well, that was a positive feedback loop he’d gladly get stuck in. 

When they entered the club, a woman was in the middle of a heartfelt, likely alcohol-fueled, rendition of a Lady Antebellum song. 

The audience didn’t let her carry the tune alone. Chiming in loudly each time the chorus rolled around, and the lyrical clock struck  _ a quarter after one _ . 

“Do you drink, Rhett?” Link shouted, nearly inaudible over the music. 

“Huh?”

Link’s face seemed to twitch unhappily, and he shouted back, “Do you want something to drink?”

“Oh. Sure. I’ll have… a beer?”

Rhett couldn’t help noticing Link hadn’t ordered one for himself. He was driving, though…

“So, what should we sing?” Link asked.

“I guess something kind of popular, right? People like to recognize the songs they hear at karaoke.”

“I’m just gonna pick one,” Link announced. “And you’re just gonna have to know it! Worst case scenario, the lyrics are on the screen for ya.”

Rhett’s eyes widened. He didn’t know if he liked this idea, or the potential to look stupid in front of a crowd. Even if it was just a drunken karaoke audience. 

Link came back and from putting their names and their mystery song on the list. 

“Seems there’s a few people ahead of us yet. Hope you don’t mind hanging out here awhile. You want another drink? Something to eat? It’s not a  _ restaurant  _ restaurant, but they got bar food and what not.”

“I’m a chicken fingers kind of a guy.”

“Dipping sauce? Wait! Lemme guess. Barbecue sauce?”

Rhett laughed. “You really do think I’m a caricature don’t you?”

“Am I wrong?”

Rhett considered asking for ranch or honey mustard, or anything just to throw him for a loop. But he kind of liked being an open book for Link. 

“Drink?”

“Uh. Are you having anything? I know you’re driving…”

“I’ll have a drink with you, Rhett. Can always get a cab home.”

Link returned to their booth with two rocks glasses filled with a brown liquor. 

“I’m gonna stereotype again, and assume bourbon is okay?”

“Yeah, that’ll work.” 

They clinked glasses and sipped them slowly. Rhett closed his eyes as he felt the warmth radiate through his chest. He watched Link’s face cringe and kind of hiss as he seemed to swish it in his mouth. 

“Don’t drink too often do ya?”

“Not so much these days, to be honest.”

“Is it… okay if we do? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable if you’re on some kind of wagon or something?”

“Nah. It’s just been a while since I’ve really been able to relax enough to enjoy it. But, I’m having a pretty good time right now.”

Rhett tilted his head as he assessed Link thoughtfully. “I’m glad. I’m having a pretty good time myself.”

‘A good time’ was an understatement. He was already imagining a long future of bourbon and chicken fingers with this man. 

They had a second bourbon before the emcee announced Rhett and Link’s turn to sing. The ‘stage’ lights weren’t as bright for this as they typically were when he performed. He imagined it was quite different from Link’s usual stage as well. 

“It’s strange being up here with no guitar,” Rhett whispered to Link just before the music started. “I’m not sure what to do with my hands.”

“Mmm,” Link hummed, the drinks making his flirting slightly more bold. “I look forward to watching you figure that out.”

It wasn’t Link’s fault that Rhett didn’t love being caught off guard. Or that he was such an emotional wreck these days, that picking a random song was akin to playing Russian roulette, but with more of the chambers loaded than not. 

But he was so gutted as he immediately recognized the Little Big Town song that he was paralyzed as the singing part started up, leaving Link to carry the tune. 

_ I know I'm probably better off on my own _

_ Than lovin' a man who didn't know _

_ What he had when he had it _

Link’s pitch wasn’t perfect, but Rhett thought he had a nice voice. And the performance aspect more than made up for anything he might have been lacking vocally. 

_ And I see the permanent damage you did to me _

_ Never again, I just wish I could forget when it was magic _

Rhett could tell that he was used to being watched rather than listened to. Rhett was more the opposite. Though right now he wasn’t doing much worth watching or listening to. He took a deep breath before joining in. 

_ I wish it wasn't four am, standing in the mirror _

_ Saying to myself, you know you had to do it I know  _

_ The bravest thing I ever did was run _

As with all the other karaoke singers that night, the barroom did love to join in for the chorus. But Rhett could clearly recognize above the sound of the crowd how their voices harmonized effortlessly. Rhett could hardly believe it himself that they’d never done this before. 

_ Sometimes, in the middle of the night, I can feel you again _

_ But I just miss you, and I just wish you were a better man _

_ And I know why we had to say goodbye _

_ Like the back of my hand _

_ And I just miss you, and I just wish you were a better man _

Link pushed up onto his toes to get Rhett’s ear. “Remember what I said back at pilates?” 

The look on Rhett’s face must have been enough to tell him that he wasn’t sure what Link was referring to. 

“Don’t close the audience out when you sing.” He touched a hand sweetly to the side of Rhett’s face, and silently mouthed, “Open your eyes.” And then Link ran off with the next verse. 

_ I know I'm probably better off all alone _

_ Than needing a man who could change his mind at any given minute _

Rhett couldn’t tell what was taking Link over when he sang. Was it the natural performer in him making him put his whole self into it? The couple of drinks making his choreographic gestures so grand? Or maybe, Rhett wondered as he watched Link practically spit the words, maybe he was also working some personal issues out for himself? 

_ And it's always on your terms _

_ I'm hanging on every careless word _

_ Hoping it might turn sweet again _

_ Like it was in the beginning _

_ But your jealousy, I can hear it now _

Rhett did his best to fill in the parts where Link’s vocal ability fell short, and to follow Link’s lead as far as how to move, and gesture theatrically for their captive audience. Rhett taking the lead more and more as they’d settled into a performance rhythm together. 

_ You're talking down to me like I'll always be around _

_ You push my love away like it's some kind of loaded gun _

_ Boy, you never thought I'd run _

Rhett watched Link wipe a little snot and spit from his face as he caught his breath. He was trying too hard. At karaoke of all things. Under normal circumstances, Rhett would’ve found that... a little sad. But Link was not a normal circumstance in Rhett’s eyes. And there was nothing about him thus far that was anything less than endearing. If Link wanted to try hard, Rhett would try hard. He’d rather look pathetic singing his heart out with Link than be seen doing anything else without him. 

_ Sometimes, in the middle of the night, I can feel you again _

_ But I just miss you, and I just wish you were a better man _

_ And I know why we had to say goodbye _

_ Like the back of my hand _

_ And I just miss you, and I just wish you were a better man _

_ A better man _

_ Better man _

Rhett could not believe that he was moving his hips and walking around the stage with even a fraction of the sass that Link seemed to so naturally exude. He was sure that he was just a lesser version, a carbon copy of a carbon copy, of the fluidity and sheer sex that Link commanded on stage. Probably similar to Link’s singing next to Rhett’s. Not his number one attribute, but they were both really up there doing it. Rhett never even usually stood up while singing. Just sat down, strumming his guitar, lost in his thoughts and lyrics. Tonight, he was lost in something else entirely. 

_ I hold onto this pride because these days it's all I have _

_ And I gave you my best and we both know you can't say that _

_ You can't say that _

Rhett did backslide a little, shutting his eyes toward their drunken crowd as they hooted and hollered for them. The words sinking hooks into some of the pains that Rhett still held onto… and do-overs he wished he coulda had in life if, he were handed the pages back for edits. 

_ I wish you were a better man _

_ I wonder what we would've become _

_ If you were a better man _

_ We might still be in love _

_ If you were a better man _

_ You would've been the one _

_ If you were a better man _

_ Yeah, yeah _

By the time they’d reached the last chorus Rhett was feeling worlds apart from the self conscious person he’d began the song as. He felt as if their singing had helped him to breathe out the guilt he carried for how he’d gotten to where he was at this point in his life; and inhaled newfound gratitude for just getting there, no matter the means. And in deep…  _ awe… _ of his singing partner. Both of them truly baring their souls as they brought it home. 

_ Sometimes, in the middle of the night, I can feel you again _

_ And I just miss you, and I just wish you were a better man _

_ And I know why we had to say goodbye _

_ Like the back of my hand _

_ And I just miss you and I just wish you were a better man _

_ We might still be in love, if you were a better man _

_ Better man _

They received a standing ovation at the end of the song. Link grabbed his hand and swung their arms up as they bowed before shuffling off the stage for whatever sucker had to follow their performance. 

Rhett was so jacked up on adrenaline he thought he might spontaneously combust. Which would have been a real shame, as he was not ready for the night to end. 

Link must have been feeling something too, because he caught Rhett completely off guard by crashing into him and tugging him down by the collar of his shirt for a desperate kiss. 

Rhett stumbled backward into a guy sitting at the bar. 

Rhett and Link both apologized to the patron in unison. The man didn’t look like he was having quite as good of a night as they were, and snickered some comment along the lines of, “All right, Little and Big Town, go get a room…”

Link blushed, and they both giggled like little kids. 

“I’m so sorry, Rhett,” Link said, smiling ear to ear. But with more sincerity than either of them had offered the guy they’d knocked into. “I shouldn’t have kissed you like that.”

“Uh. I didn’t mind,” Rhett assured him. 

“Yeah, I guessed at  _ that _ . But I shouldn’t have guessed, I should have asked. Plus, that was sloppy as hell. Not my best work.”

“I’ll let you do a second take.”

“Do you wanna… go somewhere more private?”

“Another private room?”

Link snorted. “Maybe somewhere that’s  _ not  _ being video monitored. I think I’ve had my fill of audiences for one night.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rhett and Link’s karaoke song is _Better Man_ by Little Big Town.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The tags have been updated a smidge - reach out to me if you have concerns 🖤

Rhett and Link returned to Link’s car, and sat in giddy silence for a moment as they came down from the high of their evening. Rhett was acutely aware of their hands locked together across the center console, though he didn’t have a specific memory of them having come together. Rhett figured Link must have laid his upturned hand for him to meet it. Because as it was, Rhett’s plan was pressed down over Link’s, and Link’s fingertips faced upward. A fleck of glitter was stuck in one of Link’s cuticles. Those single stray pieces of glitter were quickly becoming one of Rhett’s favorite idiosyncrasies of Link’s. Tracing back to when he’d picked a piece off of the napkin that Link had originally given him his number on.

As the adrenaline slowed, Rhett was suddenly aware of how nervous he was. He’d told Link that they should go somewhere more private, but was he really ready for all that? It wasn’t about to get any  _ less _ awkward if he didn’t slow their roll now…

“When I said we could go somewhere—“

“Technically, I’m the one that suggested that.”

“Yeah, well, I agreed to it…”

“Rhett, this ain’t a ‘no take-backsides’ type of situation. You want me to take you back to your house, you just say so.”

“I’m not ready to go home. I’m just… not really sure  _ what _ I’m ready for. I would like to go somewhere where we don’t have to shout over music and bad singing to hear one another.”

“I can think of more relaxed places, more conducive to conversation. But we won’t make it to another bar much sooner than last call,” Link pointed out. 

“We don’t have to go to a bar.”

“They don’t really have ‘after hours’ coffee places.”

“Sure they do! They’re called diners.”

“Oh shoot, you're right!”

Link drove them to a 24-hour diner where Link ordered coffee and a slice of peanut butter pie. Rhett ordered a mocha flavored milkshake, and they sat at a couple of seats that faced the front windows. Where they could watch the traffic go by. 

“Were you a singer back in… Where exactly are you from?”

“Uh. North Carolina. And no, I wasn’t a singer. Not outside my church or family gatherings anyway. I was a financial analyst for a local business.”

“What?!” Link shrieked. “No no no…  _ You _ ? Like.. an office job?”

Rhett shrugged. “I had kinda set myself down a couple of paths early on that wound up… not being a great fit.”

“But you figured it out! You’re here!”

Rhett wasn’t sure if he meant ‘here’ as in away from North Carolina, or ‘here’ with him specifically. But either way, Rhett was inclined to agree that it  _ was _ an improvement. 

“I’m tryin’.”

“Who were you singing about?” Link asked. 

“When? The open mic you saw me at? Or like, just now?”

“Hm. Either I guess. Both? Who broke your heart, Rhett?”

“Well. I guess, either way, myself. I do wanna live more honestly. Be able to look the person I’m with in the eye. I wanna be better… Better than I was.”

Rhett stared blankly out at the cars driving by as just abstract streaks of light. 

“I don’t know if it’s too early to say all this. But I was married. To a woman. And well, that didn’t end up lasting. For... obvious reasons, I suppose. It didn’t feel that obvious at the time, and I have a lot of… lingering guilt over how I handled it. And for moving out here, having the audacity to try to be happy after causing all that pain.”

Link didn’t say anything. He really  _ was _ a good listener. Therapist in a thong, indeed. 

“Anyway,” he said. Clearing his throat, and finishing the rest of his milkshake. He shrugged “That’s  _ my _ baggage, I guess.”

Link took a deep breath, taking Rhett’s hand once again and giving it a squeeze. 

They paid their check at the diner, and Link drove them around for a while. They didn’t talk, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was the easiest silence Rhett had ever sat in. After a while, Link turned on some soft music. Rhett was only distantly even curious where Link was driving him. Not curious enough to break their comfortable silence to ask. 

Link drove them out to a pier, and the view in the pre-dawn light was absolutely stunning. The sky was still dark blue overhead with blood orange just beginning to outline the horizon where the sky met the shimmering ocean. A thin band of the most ethereal greenish-blue band between the orange foil of slowly creeping sunlight and thick navy blanket of night slowly peeling itself back. 

They sat in silence and awe until Link finally asked him: “Do you wanna know who  _ I _ was singing about?”

Rhett nodded, feeling embarrassed that he hadn’t really asked Link  _ anything _ . 

“A little more standard for this sort of thing, I suppose. I was singing about my ex.”

Rhett chuckled. “And your dog, and your pickup truck?” 

Link stuck his tongue out at Rhett.

“What happened there?” 

“We had been together since junior year of college. Like. We met at a party. And we had a lot of fun drinking in college. But a few years out, I noticed the party didn’t really show signs of slowing. Though the fun of it was long gone.”

“...drinking problem?”

“Turns out, that was an understatement. I have some residual guilt myself, over how close I was to not leaving.”

“Wait? Over leaving... or  _ not… _ leaving? I’m sorry, I’m confused. I mean. You definitely did the right thing. You don’t deserve to be with someone… someone like  _ that _ .”

Link shrugged. “He wasn’t  _ bad _ . I know I sound like an abuse victim, but he wasn’t that bad. I mean. There were minor obstacles with intimacy. And us building a future together. I couldn’t make a connection, or have a conversation with someone that’s three sheets to the wind most nights. And clearly I wasn’t gonna like… bring kids into the equation or whatever. But he was what they call a ‘functioning alcoholic’. He held a job, he was social. He showed up for me. I don’t ever remember feeling like he didn’t love me. He coulda loved  _ himself _ better, that’s for sure. But he wasn’t a mean or angry drunk. We didn’t fight, except mild arguing when I would bring up his drinking. But he was never verbally or physically abusive. If you met him at a social event, or just at holidays, you’d be charmed. It was just me that had to watch the signs become more and more obvious. Being around enough to see that it wasn’t just holidays, or vacations, or weekends… It was  _ every _ day. Watch him making himself sick. Watching him grow pale and yellow. I told him ‘If you go to the doctor, and they tell you you’re fine and send you home, I won’t bring it up again. But you don’t go, and I’m afraid you’re gonna die on me!’” Link took a deep breath as his eyes glassed over with unshed tears. “He  _ still _ wouldn’t go. So I did the only thing I thought would motivate him. I left. I called his mother, and I left him. His mother made him go to the hospital, and they kept him a full week. He’ll tell you today that I saved his life.”

“It… it sounds like you did, Link.”

“But I’m going to tell you something that I haven’t ever voiced out loud.”

Now it was Rhett’s turn to squeeze Link’s hand in support. 

“I  _ so easily  _ could have not left. Because, if I left and he got better. He’d find somebody else, and that person would get ‘the new him’. Which was likely gonna be a heck of a lot like ‘the old him’. The one that I fell in love with back in college. Minus the partying. But the one with a personality, and energy… just generally and all over  _ healthy _ . And I’d have to see him and his new lovers, and possibly new  _ family _ . All the good stuff that I didn’t end up getting with him. And feel shitty and bitter for thinking  _ that should be me _ . Because  _ I _ did the emotional labor.”

Rhett didn’t know what to say. 

“Isn’t that awful?” Link whispered. 

“But you did leave…”

“Yeah, ultimately I knew I wanted him alive and well, more than I wanted to keep him for myself. That seems like an obvious conclusion to come to. But at the time it didn’t feel that clear.”

“You didn’t wanna... get back together? Once he got better?”

“I couldn’t. By that time, we’d had as many unhealthy years together as healthy. And then the bad times had tainted the good times in retrospect. It was just too dang much. I didn’t wanna carry that baggage. And he deserves to be with someone that can give him the clean slate that he deserves.”

“You’re a really strong person, Link.” 

“Ha. Thanks. I’m not looking for a medal, and he’s the one that’s stayed sober since then, and gotten the therapy he needed to get to the root of why he was ‘self medicating’ like that to begin with. And I’ve done a lot of healing since then too. Miraculously there’s no hard feelings or yearning left between us. We still get along. And I think we sincerely want the best for one another. It’s not an  _ unhappy _ ending. I think I’ve just been hesitant to risk any kind of new beginnings.”

Rhett wanted to tell him that he wasn’t as big of a mess of a person as he might have suggested. That he  _ did _ have it together. That Link wouldn’t be stuck doing emotional labor for or with him. 

He also didn’t want to lie to him. 

He decided against jumping to defensive statements. And focus on the common ground. 

“I haven’t  _ dated _ anyone since my ex. I think I’ve been afraid of new beginnings, too.”

“This thing between us seems to have made us braver than we’ve been giving ourselves credit for,” Link suggested with a small smile. 

Rhett didn’t usually consider himself much of a romantic. But he couldn’t bite back his next words. Not with the sun rising so beautifully before them. He knew that it was not an accident that the scene was so lovely at this point that Link had specifically driven them to and at this time of day. It was now so late that it was early. And despite having not had a drink since the karaoke bar, Rhett was feeling giddy and tipsy and silly. Like when you pass a certain point at a sleepover, and everyone is operating on some underutilized subconscious part of their brain - and everything begins to either get real, or get absurd. 

“I think we’re finding each other at the perfect season of our lives.”

Link’s eyes slid shut and his ever present catlike grin faded slightly for a fleeting moment.

“Hey, Rhett? You think I could get that second take?”

Rhett did not hesitate. “Hell yes.”

The golden-pink sunlight streamed through the windshield as they leaned across the center console. They seemed to unbuckle their seatbelts in unison as they met in the middle. 

There was no crashing together of lips and teeth as there had been at the bar. This kiss was soft and inviting as opposed to sloppy and imposing. Rhett could feel both Link’s need and his restraint. He felt himself being drawn into him. He lifted one hand to stroke Link’s smooth cheek as he sought to be as close as possible to this man whose mouth he was now comfortably locked with. Link did subtly suggestive and skillful things with his tongue that made Rhett’s loins  _ ache _ . He tugged at Link’s shirt. Wanting to pull him in closer. He felt Link smile into the kiss.

“Where do you want me?” Link husked. 

Rhett had several answers for that. Some best kept in the privacy of his head at present. 

“I just… Want you close?” Rhett whimpered. 

Somehow Link seemed to know what to do with the vague and unhelpful answer to his very precisely communicated question. 

He flung a slender leg over the console with more grace than should have been possible in such a confined space. His long legs locked themselves around Rhett’s thighs, and he pressed his body against Rhett’s. He fit into Rhett’s lap comfortably, like he was born to fit there. Live there. Or at least be a frequent visitor. 

They traded soft kisses, and moments of simply resting their foreheads against one another’s and allowing their breathing to synchronize. It was hypnotic, like becoming one with the push and pull of a tide. 

Rhett felt like he could gladly lose his whole self in this other person, and he couldn’t remember ever feeling that way about someone. It was like an off-menu item at the restaurant of Feelings; he hadn’t even known it was an option. 

“You should sleep at my place.”

Rhett’s breathing didn’t exactly hitch at the suggestion, but Link did notice as he gently held it. 

“Relax, I just mean  _ sleep _ . You’ve gotta be exhausted, and I don’t want your sleep deprived driving on my conscience.”

Rhett agreed, he was becoming deliriously tired and his eyes were beginning to burn. It was almost an out of body experience as he let Link drive him back to his apartment. He was doing that thing where every time he blinked, he seemed to fall asleep for the span of that blink. 

Then before he knew it he was in Link’s apartment. He felt pleasantly warm as Link settled him into his bed. As a grown man he was not accustomed to being tucked in or taken care of like this. 

It was nice. 

“I’m just gonna sleep on the couch in the living room—“

“I can sleep there, don’t lemme steal your bed, man.”

“Don’t be ridiculous: first of all, you’re a guest; and aside from that, you’d never fit on the couch. Which is your loss really. That couch is comfy as all get out.”

Rhett heard his own chuckling distantly as sleep was already running away with his sleep deprived mind. 

As he drifted off, cozy in Link’s bed, surrounded by pillows and blankets, and everything that smelled so pleasantly of Link - Rhett hoped that the sensory feedback would easily translate into a dream of being wrapped up in Link’s arms, and that when he woke up, he’d find that the dream started  _ here _ , and not that he’d been dreaming this entire time. Because this night could so easily be too good to be true.


	12. Chapter 12

Rhett woke up in Link’s bed, which was... kind of a thrill. Despite the fact that he was waking up in it, and had spent the night in it, alone. He looked around Link’s bedroom and he could see into the en-suite bathroom from here. 

There was no exposed brick in either room; no fairy lights or plants. There was a lot of cool pale bluish grey paint, stainless steel, large windows. It was a modern style, Rhett supposed. It looked... expensive, but it didn't really have any on Link’s personality in it. It didn’t feel like anyone’s home. And while Rhett suspected his usual reaction would be something along the lines of ‘to each their own’, he didn’t like thinking that his and Link’s own were so different. 

_ I am waaay overthinking this,  _ Rhett thought to himself before telling his brain to settle on ‘opposites attract’ for now as a possibility, and moving on.

He stretched out, and as his pointed toes poked out from under the cozy comforter, the arches of one foot cramped up. He inhaled sharply and froze. Holding his breath briefly before reminding himself to breathe through the cramp. As the muscle in his foot eased itself back to relaxing, Rhett’s breathing refined to normal, and his thoughts settled having come to no real conclusion after circling through ways of preventing that from happening so freaking often going forward. Drink more water? Eat more bananas? Take a vitamin? He sighed and decided he could start by just moving it around. 

He reluctantly unwrapped himself from the comforting embrace of the distantly Link-scented blankets. The muscle in his arch still ached, as if he’d strained it. And he shuffled and hopped a bit as he made his way to the door. 

When he opened the bedroom door into the high ceilinged living room, he was struck by how fancy and clean everything was. He was willing to bet he could guess which check paid for this place: likely wasn’t the fitness instructor gig. 

There was music on. So low that Rhett didn’t hear it at first. It was the kind of soothing ambient type of music you might hear at a yoga studio. 

_ Does he just play this stuff like elevator or department store muzak for his apartment? _

Rhett began to hobble in the direction of the kitchen to grab a glass of water. He was relieved to not be feeling hungover. But he was so exhausted he felt a little off anyway. He was definitely gonna need to take a nap when he got home, or his shift tonight was gonna be miserable. 

Only then did he realize that he hadn’t in fact been the first one awake that morning. He glanced down at his watch. It was nearly 11 o’clock. Still morning. Technically. 

Link had a mat rolled out onto the ash grey hardwood flooring, and was doing some kind of yoga or stretches. The last thing Rhett wanted to do was interrupt. Not only because he didn’t want to be a nuisance, but also because it was mesmerizing to watch Link move. He just kind of wanted to watch for a bit as Link alternately flexed and elongated his long, lean body. He went into a kind of back bridge, pressing the back of his shoulders into the mat and pushing his hips upward, stretching the tops of the thighs and strengthening his glutes. Rhett knew the way each muscle would feel, as he had lingering secondhand self-consciousness over having performed these ‘poses’ in Link’s pilates class. Rhett wondered exactly how dumb he had looked, flailing around and trembling, especially compared to the smooth strong motions Link was going through now. 

Link fluidly rolled over onto his belly and pressed his upper body up while keeping his hips and legs pinned down, like Ariel up on the rocks in The Little Mermaid. He took deep breaths, filling his chest. Stretching out through each shoulder. 

“You know, most people that watch me for this long gotta pay first.” 

Rhett could see that Link was smiling as he said it, but he still felt stupid. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be weird about it…” 

“Did you hurt yourself?” Link asked, easily moving on from Rhett’s mild display of voyeurism. “You look like you’re limping.”

“Oh, it’s nothing. I got a charlie horse in my foot. It’s pretty much gone.”

“Heh. Charlie…”

Rhett looked at Link in a way that let him know he was not in on the joke. 

“My first name is Charles. Lincoln’s my middle name.”

“Ah. That ole southern tradition.”

“With everyone naming people after everyone else, gotta have some way to keep track of who’s who.”

Rhett laughed. Regardless of whether he called himself Link or Charles or Charlie… He was easy to laugh with. 

“Can I walk you through some stretches, Rhett?”

“Hm. Don’t people usually pay you for that, too?”

“If you haven’t noticed, I do enjoy giving you free samples.” 

Rhett smiled and wondered if he’d ever be able to talk to him without having his cheeks go all warm and pink. 

He was also suddenly aware of the fact that he was still in just the boxer shorts and t-shirt he’d slept in. 

“I dunno if I’m really dressed for any kind of workout.”

“Just some light stretching. Besides, it’s just us. I’m not shooting a workout video or anything.”

_ Just us _ . Rhett did like the sound of that. Of there being an  _ us _ . He still felt awkward and vulnerable about doing so, but he went ahead and sat down onto the mat that Link had been stretching on, with his legs out in front of him, awaiting his instruction. 

“Relax, Rhett. You want your body to feel loose and pliant.”

Rhett closed his eyes at the sound of Link’s soothing voice. It was like he was hypnotizing him, not coaching him. 

“Bring your knees up and keep your feet flat on the mat. Now  _ slowly _ roll your back down onto the mat, feeling your spine elongate and make contact with the mat one vertebrae at a time.”

Rhett felt Link’s hand lightly hovering behind the back of his neck and the base of his skull. The support was completely unnecessary, but it made his stomach flutter.

“Is this too much?” Link asked, as if he could read Rhett’s mind. “How do you feel? Too… silly?”

“No, it’s… fine.” 

“Can you open your eyes for me? I can’t tell if you’re with me.”

Rhett allowed his eyes to flutter open. 

“Is it therapeutic for you to retreat inward like that?” Link asked him, not shying away from the opportunity for eye contact. “Because if it is, and you’ll get more out of the exercise—“

“Nah, it’s just… habit? I think it’s more therapeutic for me to challenge myself to  _ not _ do that.”

“Okay. I like the connection. And I feel like I can read you better when I can see your eyes. I think I like challenging you, too,” Link said with a hint of mischief behind his smile. “But right now I just want you to feel good. So that’s just my recommendation, but I won’t ask you to open them again if you decide you’d rather close them.”

Somehow, Link giving Rhett that agency made Rhett more determined than ever to keep his eyes open. He knew he wouldn’t be closing them for the duration of the exercise. He’d have to remind himself to even blink. 

“Bring the soles of your feet together, and press your knees down. Like a reclined butterfly stretch. There you go, Rhett… If your hips feel tight, you can move your feet forward more away from your hips. Or if you feel comfortable, you can pull them in closer for a deeper stretch.”

If Rhett hadn’t been self conscious about his thin and loose boxer shorts before, in this pose he certainly was. Link was still seated at Rhett’s middle. So he wouldn’t have to subject himself to the too-casual view up his shorts. 

Rhett hadn’t even considered how his shirt had ridden up his middle until he felt the heat of Link’s skin near it. 

Link placed his hands just above Rhett’s hips. 

“Is this okay?” Link asked, feeling Rhett flinch a little under his touch. 

Rhett cleared his throat gruffly. “Uh, yeah. My back feels good. My hips are a little tight. But I might ease into it.”

“This is a really good pose for opening up your hips. And you’re doing great. You move really well for such a big guy.”

Link’s hands slid down over Rhett’s hip bones and subtly massaged his muscles, helping them loosen up and Rhett could feel his body becoming putty in Link’s hands. He could also feel himself  _ responding _ to the touch. His face now on fire with how exposed he felt, lying spread like this, his boxers beginning to tent. 

“A lot of guys your size - well, I’ve never seen anyone quite your size exactly. But most bigger men are too stiff to move gracefully.”

Rhett cringed internally, but figured better to clear the air than act like Link might somehow not notice. 

“Speaking of  _ stiff _ , I’m sorry I...”

“Don’t be embarrassed, Rhett. I said I want you to feel good. Unless I’ve made you uncomfortable. In which case I can stop.”

“It’s… a little weird for me?” 

Link started to draw his hands away, but Rhett quickly brought his own hands up to cover Link’s and keep them there. 

Rhett clarified, “I don’t wanna make  _ you _ uncomfortable, because of… well, my brain still hasn’t caught up to my body with what it wants. And that feels confusing.”

“We’re just stretching, Rhett. I’m not trying to make you do anything else. No matter how nicely your body is answering to my touch. Do you want to stop? Or continue to stretch?”

Rhett swallowed hard before speaking, with hopes that his voice wouldn’t break like the anxious teenager he felt like around Link. “Keep going?”

“That sounds like a question.”

“Keep going.”

Link nodded, then slid his hands down lower until they settled into the inner pits where Rhett’s thighs hinged with his hips. 

Link rubbed the strained and tight muscles, and Rhett couldn’t help the small moans and sighs. Link did not verbally acknowledge Rhett’s sounds, though Rhett could feel Link’s thumbs moving in slow deep circles, gently massaging perilously close to places that Rhett both did and didn’t want Link’s hands. 

“I noticed how agile you were during our little karaoke performance. You moved really well there, too. You’ve got a natural semblance of rhythm. Probably from your musicianship…”

“You’re serious?”

“Why wouldn’t I be serious?”

“Well, the way I see it, you’re either making fun of me, or being incredibly generous. I never felt so uncoordinated as I did sharing a stage with someone as talented as you.”

“You’re selling yourself incredibly short, Rhett.” 

Rhett held his breath as Link’s hands traveled down his spread thighs and halfway toward his knees. He then felt gentle pressure as Link helped him deepen the stretch. 

“Tell me if I’m pushing too far?” Link prompted. 

Rhett nodded. 

“You already have a captivating stage presence. And you move well with music. I think if you had a little more confidence… You could... do what I do.”

That caught Rhett so far off guard he nearly pulled a muscle in the sudden laughter. 

“Can I rest for a sec?”

Link removed the pressure from Rhett’s legs, allowing Rhett to extend them fully. Link scooted up to lie alongside Rhett on the floor. 

“I was serious, Rhett. They have an amateur night at the club each month. I think you’d blow people away.”

“You weren’t kidding when you said you like to challenge me, huh?”

“I just know a good thing when I see it.”

Link was looking at him like he really believed it. Rhett was struggling a little with someone as beautiful as Link looking at him like he was the most gorgeous thing he’d seen. But he wasn’t about to openly question or insult Link’s tastes. 

Instead he curled onto his side to rest a tentative hand on Link’s waist. Link met him in the space between them to share a soft kiss. It was one of the most chaste and restrained displays he’d participated in as a grown man; while, when combined with all the small acts of intimacy in the past 24 hours, also managed to be one of the most sensual. 

——————

Link drove Rhett back to his car, and the only thing Rhett wanted to do once he got home was sleep some more. He had to work later that night, and he knew that if he didn’t take a nap now he’d be an absolute zombie later. 

His time with Link had been more than worth it, but he knew it was time to return to the real world. 

But this was the real world, wasn’t it? A world where he had gone on a date with the man of his dreams, dared to share parts of themselves that were difficult, instead of swapping the physical parts that would have been much easier in the short term. 

This was his real world. 

He stripped down to his boxers, and didn’t bother with pulling the futon out into a bed before collapsing onto it. 

He sighed heavily. 

He did yearn for that physical exchange. 

He wondered if he had made a mistake in not just giving in earlier. It had felt right. Was he just so used to not trusting his own instincts, that he was now denying himself out of habit? 

Rhett tossed and turned. And worse, denying  _ Link _ . Link didn’t deserve to be punished for Rhett’s poor decision making in the past. 

And moreover, Rhett decided, Rhett didn’t deserve to punish himself any longer either. 

Rhett hoped that Link was as patient as he had seemed, and hoped that the next time he had the chance he’d be more generous for both their sakes.

It turned out there was something he needed slightly more than sleep...

He imagined lying with Link. Both unburdened and uninhibited. Skin against skin. Warm in each other’s body heat. And heavy breathing. The memory of Link’s hands on him was still so crisp and fresh.

Rhett’s hands continued where he had stopped Link earlier. He tucked a hand beneath the thin fabric of his boxers and wrapped a hand around his neglected cock. He pumped it as he imagined Link’s lithe body on top of his. Moving his hips on him like he’d seen him do on stage. Or in pilates. Everything about Link suggested that he'd be  _ incredible _ in bed (or on a yoga mat, or on a stage, or literally anywhere he could be had). And in Rhett’s fantasies he didn’t have to worry about measuring up against Link’s skill set. In his mind, he was good enough. He didn’t even have a concrete  _ act _ that he was fantasizing about. It wasn’t clearly hands or mouths… He was simply  _ with _ Link. And it was enough to have Link writhing and moaning and unraveling in his arms. Rhett wanted to make Link feel good, and to have him fall apart for him like Rhett so easily did for Link. 

Link had already given him the answer.  _ Confidence _ . Link said he saw things in Rhett. Rhett wanted to be those things for Link. 

He pictured Link’s body. Stripped down, stretched out.

Rhett rocked himself into his hand and buried his other hand into his hair. He imagined Link pulling and scratching at Rhett’s body. When Rhett imagined what Link’s face might look like when he came, it was enough to send himself over the edge. Picturing his face going from taut and wound up to unhinged and slack, crying out in pleasure.

Rhett finished himself off, thrusting shakily into his hand. Collapsing bonelessly into the mattress, like he might sink right through it. A vision washed over him of lying like this with Link. Sweaty, and sticky, and spent. Melting into one another. 

It felt so tangible. So real. Like it was more than a fantasy; a future memory. He drifted off to sleep, curled up with a pillow, hoping that might be true. 


	13. Chapter 13

Rhett had never really dated as an adult. Hell, he hadn’t really dated in college, or as a teenager. He had known he was supposed to marry a nice girl, and Amber was the nicest girl he’d ever met. She was fun. She liked the same music and movies as him. He was comfortable sharing space with her. He’d always heard people bragging about ‘marrying their best friend’. He had seen it engraved into invitations and napkins at weddings. He didn’t feel anything beyond that though. They didn’t really flirt, and he thought that the whole butterflies in the stomach phenomenon must have been just a scheme cooked up by hallmark card companies, and people who wanted to sell romcoms and love songs.

And sex. 

_ That _ hadn’t been all it was cracked up to be either. Whatever it was that people blushed and squirmed about whenever the topic came up, he didn’t get it. He had sex… regularly? with Amber. And it felt… fine. But he never found himself looking forward to it, or fantasizing about it. He knew that the entertainment business liked to sell sex, and convince people that they should be having more of it, and create unrealistic standards for it. So sometimes Rhett would convince himself that he had a normal sex life, and that it was only society romanticizing something that was meant to be more of a marital  _ obligation _ . 

He’d even heard of some people who didn’t even try to pretend to be interested in sex. Just didn’t pursue it, or see what the big deal was. And he could completely relate to that. These people weren’t broken. And neither was he!

And then he’d met Brendan. 

And something in his brain had unlocked. While it still held true that some people weren’t interested in sex, and they were perfectly healthy and valid, he knew at that point that he was simply not among them. 

Now that he’d met Link, his brain had completely unhinged. The thought of his sexual cravings lining up with his romantic ones regularly drove him wild. 

This was a whole new world. And Rhett was realizing that it wasn’t the songs and movies influencing his feelings about his love life. It was that he was now finally feeling the things that likely inspired those people to write the songs and movies. 

He thought about Link all the time. Casually, going about his day. Intimately, whenever he touched himself. 

They texted each other first thing when they woke up, and right before going to bed at night. And on and off all day in between. 

Rhett felt addicted, and he absolutely loved it. It was a rush. 

Every once in a while he’d feel a twinge of embarrassment that he’d been so ignorant before as to settle for something so far from  _ this  _ feeling; and having accepted it as ‘love’. Or maybe that feeling wasn’t quite ‘embarrassment’, maybe it was more anger: that nobody had told him that he was settling, or missing out on how much more love had to offer. 

But those negative thoughts were fleeting, and it was hard to dwell on them. He just felt so lucky to be experiencing this kind of love now. He reckoned a lot of people never quite got there, and he now understood the mortifying compulsion that lovestruck fools had to ‘shout it from the rooftops’. 

He wished someone had shouted it at him. Then again, he probably hadn’t been ready to listen. 

Tonight, Rhett was working. He hadn’t told Lake about the new development in his love life. As much as he was filled to bursting with wanting to share this good news, like a missionary peddling salvation, there was also a part of him that was nervous to speak it aloud. Like by telling someone his greatest wish, it wouldn’t come true? It also just felt very… new. Despite their constant communication, they hadn’t seen each other since That Night. So what was there to tell exactly? Was Link his… boyfriend? That felt premature. Were they even dating?

The definitions weren’t important, and having something to tell Lake didn’t feel particularly important just yet either. The thing that felt important was the way his heart skipped a beat when he felt his phone buzz with another message from Link. And how his stomach fluttered when the alert banner let him know there was an image attached to the message. 

“Are you even listening to me, Rhett?”

“Hm? Yeah, ‘course.”

“Don’t be a dick. You’ve been on your phone all night. Who are you texting anyway?”

“What? No one. Just a friend.”

“Is it a guy?” She asked, face lighting up with the prospect of something juicy. 

Rhett rolled his eyes. “It’s not like that.”

She waggled her eyebrows. “Then tell me what it’s like.”

“You’re too freakin much, you know that?” He shook his head. “I gotta take a leak. You okay out here?”

“Don’t be in there all night sending dick pics to your  _ boyfriend _ !” 

He held his breath. He hadn’t been planning on it. That sounded kind of tacky, and like something that  _ he _ would never do. However… if Link ever sent him one… Well, he wouldn’t find  _ that  _ tacky at all. He felt his dick stirring at the thought alone. 

Once he was behind the locked door of the bathroom, he opened the message, and though the image was not of Link’s dick, Rhett was  _ not _ disappointed. 

Apparently, Link was at work too. And not at the gym. 

He was dressed like a firefighter.

His eyes were framed in theatrically smoky black-glitter eyeshadow. But there was nothing really feminine about it. This ensemble, unlike the couple of ones he’d seen Link…  _ dance _ in, this costume was dripping with raw, borderline caricaturistic, masculinity. He was wearing a white sleeveless undershirt, stretched so tightly across his chest, it looked like it might rip. Rhett wondered if that was intentional - if it was a throwaway piece intended to be ripped off onstage. Rhett would have liked to see that…

The wide suspenders framed sharp collarbones. Rhett’s eyes traveled all over the image. Those clavicles leading to that long neck, all just begging to be nibbled and gnawed at. His eyes worked down Link’s body to where the undershirt tucked into the low rise pants. Rhett suspected if he were to lift the hem of that shirt just a little, he’d see  _ something _ . 

Rhett thought it might be funny to send something back. So he quickly pulled his staff hoodie up a little and tied it in a knot behind his back, making the shirt look comically tight and exposing his midriff. He struck a pose, pursed his lips and took a full body selfie. He sent the message, and quickly headed back out to the bar, hoping Lake was done giving him crap about texting. 

She didn’t say anything upon his return. Though she did keep shooting him significant looks as he went about trying to keep busy during this slow part of the evening. He helped wipe down tables, straightened chairs, rotated liquor bottles. Anything to keep from getting trapped into a conversation he wasn’t confident in having. 

His phone buzzed again in his pocket, and he was compelled to check it immediately. He wanted to know if Link thought his photo was funny. If it being funny somehow made it sexy. He hoped Link hadn’t taken it as making fun of him. And mostly, he really hoped Link had sent him another photo in return. He didn’t care if it was funny or sexy he just wanted to see Link. 

“Are there clean glasses in the back?” He asked, trying to come off as innocuous as possible. 

He heard something that sounded affirmative from Lake who’d idly begun checking the club’s emails and social media, and Rhett seized the excuse to duck back into the kitchen for a moment. 

He quickly loaded up a box with freshly cleaned glassware, then grabbed his phone. He hoped that the audible noise of appreciation that had escaped his lips wasn’t loud enough to travel out front. Link had unslung the wide suspenders from his shoulders and the firefighter styled pants were just barely hanging on beneath his hips. There was a thin trail of coarse dark hair directing Rhett’s eyes, as if he needed clues, down to bulge in Link’s pants. 

He was still clothed, but the not so subtle hint of what was underneath made Rhett’s whole body feel warm. He wanted to see more. He wanted to show Link more… The fact that Link wanted to be sexy for Rhett somehow had the transitive property of making Rhett feel sexier himself. 

He looked around the empty kitchen to make sure he was still alone before he unzipped his jeans, and let the dark blue elastic band of his shorts peek out and he found himself trying to aesthetically position and display his little tuft of golden hair that peeked out of those. He grabbed a dish towel as a ‘prop’ and tried to think of how he could make a play on a ‘sexy firefighter’ costume and make it a ‘sexy dishwasher’? Hoping again that Link would follow his sense of humor and maybe even like the little strip of skin he was showing. 

But he nearly jumped out of his skin and was lucky not to knock the box of glasses over as Lake entered the kitchen.

“Jeeeesus, Lake! You scared the daylights outta me.”

“I don’t like it any better than you! What are you trying to do anyway? Either the bar is coming out with some kind of fundraiser calendar that I don’t know about, or are you actually  _ sexting _ at work?”

“I— No! Of course not. I…” For a big man, Rhett suddenly felt microscopic in his humiliation. 

“Just… Relax. It’s not a big deal.”

He looked at her skeptically, fully on the defensive. 

“It’s not! Uh… You want me to… help you take a picture or something? You look like you’re kinda struggling there.”

“That’s a little awkward, isn’t it?”

“Were you really gonna, like…  _ show  _ anything?”

“No!”

“Okay! Okay… So. It’s not too weird. It’s kind of… artsy?”

Rhett rolled his eyes and sighed. 

“So, who is he?”

Rhett didn’t know where to begin. She actually  _ had _ seen him before. But that wasn’t exactly the first place Rhett knew him from. 

“His name’s Link. He saw me play a set at the cafe, and then we, like, ran into each other a couple times. Went on a date, I guess.”

“Wow, Rhett! That’s fantastic.”

“It’s still kinda early on, so… I dunno. Didn’t wanna make a bunch of introductions if it doesn’t end up going anywhere…”

“If they are fit for public consumption, can I see a picture?”

The first picture really didn’t show anything, but it did kind of give away his profession… And they were for Rhett. Not the world. But Rhett  _ did _ trust Lake… and it’s not like his job was a secret. He had social media and stuff. 

Then it occurred to him, he’d keep for himself the images Link had sent him privately … and he brought up the Snow Bunnies website on his phone. He switched over to the South Pole page and clicked on the “Photo Gallery” and found one of Link where you could see his face clearly. 

“Rhett. James. McLaughlin.”

He shrugged innocently. 

“You’re sleeping with a stripper?!”

“I haven’t slept with him!”

“Well, you’re thinking about it!”

_ Non-stop.  _

“He’s a person, too, Lake. And I really didn’t know that about him the first time I saw him at the cafe. Or the second time at the gym… But, it doesn’t really matter. Does it?”

“No, it’s not  _ bad _ . But it’s kinda… exciting?”

“I don’t really know much about it, to be honest.”

“He’s really hot, Rhett.”

“Uh, yeah. I noticed.”

“So what exactly were you gonna send back to him?” Her eyes drifted conspicuously to the towel tucked into his jeans. 

Rhett felt his cheeks flush all over again. “Um. It was dumb. He sent me a picture of him in one of his, uh… work costumes—“

“Oh. My. God.”

“Lake!”

“I’m sorry! I’ll be quiet.”

“So… I was just going to send pictures of me and… I dunno. Work stuff here?”

“That’s cute.”

“Thought you were gonna be quiet…”

“It is cute! And it’s funny. If he doesn’t have a sense of humor, he’s not for you. No matter what kind of smokin hot stripper bod he’s rockin.”

“Well, it was just kind of a half-baked idea. I don’t really know how I’m gonna execute it.” He turned his back enough to untuck the towel from his pants without revealing he’d undone his zipper. 

“You should pose with the broom as a pole!”

Rhett smiled. That  _ was _ a good idea.

Lake tossed him a broom and Rhett instinctively wrapped his right leg around it. And threw Lake an ‘ironic’ smoldering look. 

“Fierce, Rhett! Make love to the camera! Oh! You should make it look like you wanna… you know… lick the handle?”

“That doesn’t seem sanitary…”

“Oh, it’s definitely not. I didn’t say you should actually lick it. Just… you know, act like you wanna. I mean. Unless you feel like that would be writing a check your mouth isn’t ready to cash.”

“Oh my gosh, you are _ the worst _ . I wish you’d never found out,” Rhett complained without a trace of sincerity, and through a giddy smile at the silliness they were making of the awkward situation. He was glad he didn’t have to keep this to himself. It made the whole ordeal feel a lot more fun. They sent a couple of pics with the broom before Rhett put his camera away. He didn’t want to overdo it. 

“I think he’ll like the broom handle stuff,” Lake winked. “I bet he thinks about your beard on him…” she teased.

Rhett rolled his eyes. “I have a beard. So… if he thinks of me like that at all, then yes, I assume my beard is a part of it.”

“What do you mean  _ if _ ? You said he texts you all the time, and sends you sexy pictures…”

Rhett smiled kind of softly, and tried to think of how to say what was on his mind without making it into a pity party. “You don’t think… that he’s maybe a little bit… out of my league?”

If Lake was acting, she was good. But she appeared shocked, almost hurt by that suggestion. “What? Absolutely not! Listen, the obligatory disclaimer of you not being my ‘type’, you are a good lookin guy! And I’m sure your height goes a long way. Plus you’re hilarious, thoughtful, talented… I don’t know what’s going on in your head if you think you’re not a total catch.”

Rhett figured he might as well rush in while the vulnerability doors were still open. 

“Link thinks…” he cleared his throat and took a breath. “He thinks I could… dance.”

“Like…  _ dance _ dance?”

Rhett nodded, and added a self-deprecating chuckle. 

“Hell yes, you could dance!”

“Lake, you don’t gotta be my personal cheer squad.”

“Why not, though? I think he’s right! You’re creative enough. You know music. You seem to just focus it a bit more inwardly, but you tap into a way to project that talent outwardly for an audience and you could  _ slay _ !”

Rhett felt overwhelmed by the knowledge that he was almost definitely going to do the thing. He could feel it in his bones. 

“It’s more than just music and dancing though. I need a costume… or… character? There’s no way in hell I’m just going out there as me.”

Lake shook her head in clear amusement. “My ever-oblivious friend… You’re a country boy, Rhett. I’d think your go-to character would be obvious.”

He cocked an inquisitive eyebrow at her.

She simply winked, and replied, “Ride ‘em, Cowboy…”


	14. Chapter 14

After sharing his, up to the point, somewhat secret stripper aspirations with Lake, Rhett felt more accountable toward making it happen. He began to shop the thrift stores and costume shops around town for different articles that he might be able to use to assemble a few workable outfits. 

It was an entirely different mindset from normal shopping. He didn’t want things to fit exactly right. It was okay if pants hugged his junk too much. Some pieces he wanted to be stretchy and flexible, some flimsy and tearable. In the past, he’d been frustrated by pants too tight on his hips, or shirts that didn’t quite cover his entire long torso. But now all of that felt appropriately inappropriate. 

He would get dressed to see how flexible the clothing was. How flexible he himself was. He had even bought a full length mirror for his apartment. He never would have thought he’d have a use for one. Checking that his hair was right and there was nothing in his teeth had always been sufficient to determine whether or not he was suitable for public. He hadn’t needed more than the small mirror on the other side of the medicine cabinet in his bathroom for that. 

Now, even with the more complete visual for himself, he still felt like he needed an objective view. An outside perspective. 

Cutting through all his own bullcrap, he knew that he just wanted Link’s opinion. More than that, his approval. But schedules kept conflicting, and they’d been short on opportunities to spend time together in person. 

Rhett was able to make time to go to a couple of Link’s pilates classes. And Link was as discreetly hands on with his instruction as he could be while leading a group class. Each time Link had touched him was electric. And would always lead to Rhett touching himself later. Imagining that it was a private class. And the touches could lead to groping, grinding, making out on the floor mat. A lot of his fantasies were inspired by their night in Link’s car, where Link had climbed into Rhett’s lap and wiggled deliciously against Rhett’s crotch for him. He pictured them in the spandex shorts they wore for class, even less fabric between them than the tight denim they’d both worn that night. Very little would be left to the imagination as they moved their bodies with and against one another. 

When Rhett was feeling extra needy, he’d extrapolate that Link had squirmed in Rhett’s lap like that because he wanted him to... It was almost too bold for him to think. Even to himself. He’d never done that with a guy before. He wasn’t sure he’d been particularly good at it with the woman he’d been with. But his heart raced when he considered how motivated he felt to be _good_ for Link. It was like molten liquid churning in his stomach. Fueling him with fire, excitement and… a bit of fear. 

The fact that they hadn’t been able to sync up their schedules was frustrating, but also a little romantic. The buildup and anticipation. The yearning.

He texted Link _constantly_ for tips. At least, that was a good enough excuse in his book to be texting Link constantly. He asked for opinions on character and choreography. Costume and confidence. Link was always good at giving Rhett pep talks and encouragement. He would walk him through stretches that were good for mobility. And movements and sequences that were kind of like a dancer’s bread and butter. Things crowds were always both expecting and excited to see. And though Rhett still was not sold on how enthusiastic he was to try to act sexy for a crowd of strangers, he had learned that he got an incredible thrill from performing for Link. 

He liked sending him pictures in his different outfits, and getting reactions from him. And setting up video to show him how he was learning to move his body. The first time, Rhett had been nauseatingly nervous, and near cripplingly self conscious. 

But then he started to dance. 

He had selected a song with a lazy, punctuated rhythm. It suited the languid movements of his long limbs, and the controlled sway of his torso and hips. It was easy to get lost in the motion and how it made his body feel to merge with the music. The tune wrapped around his body and threaded through him like string animating a puppet. Weaving into his neural network and gripping tightly to his mind. Allowing himself, at least momentarily, to believe that he was talented enough, or sexy enough... That someone like Link might be mesmerized by what _he_ had to offer.

Rhett could almost forget the blue eyes on the other screen. Wide and lustful, mouth hanging open slightly in a playful, crooked grin that lived in a space that shouldn’t exist - somewhere between disbelief and ‘I told you so’. If Rhett had to choose one word to describe how Link looked in the few moments he couldn’t help breaking character and locking eyes with his sole audience member, he thought it would be ‘pleased’. 

Link was pleased to see Rhett like this. 

And Rhett was beginning to like it, too. 

Rhett liked the way that the red vinyl pants hugged and stretched over his hip bones as he snapped his hips from left to right. The way he could feel the air change between the heat of the tight pants and the cool liberating air across his bare stomach. And the taboo feeling of the fitted, open leather jacket with nothing underneath it. Every once in a while the zipper or some fringe wild brush across his chest, working with the chill of the air to remind him of his partial nakedness. He wore leather gloves and a black cowboy hat. Too covered in some places, too exposed in others. The jacket wasn’t as stretchy as the pants. Different materials. Rhett was surprised to learn that he loved the constrained feeling and lack of give in the stiff jacket. And the contrast when he eventually, slowly removed it. 

By the time Rhett finished his performance, he was down to his boots, black hat, and tiny leather shorts. 

And Link looked like his jaw was on the floor. 

He also appeared to be in a different room, judging by the background where he was sitting. 

“Did you… move?”

“Uh, yeah,” Link chuckled. I couldn’t really watch that out in the dressing room with the other guys walking around.

“You know, a lot more people are gonna see me like this if I wind up performing. So you’re probably going to have to get used to the idea.”

“Oh! You think I don’t want people to see you? That’s not what I meant. I got no business being possessive of that body of yours. Besides, it’s a freakin gift, and the people should see!”

Rhett was now blushing more than he had when he was taking off his clothes. 

“What I didn’t want people to see was how much I was… liking what I was seeing.”

“Pshhh. Okay. You’re just being nice.”

“You don’t believe that seeing you dance, that watching your incredible body, had _an effect_ on me?”

Rhett shrugged shyly. 

Link panned his camera down to his shorts, the outline of his erection plainly visible beneath. 

“Gosh,” Rhett gasped hoarsely. 

“I’m sorry if that was inappropriate!” But his grin and giggle didn’t look sorry. 

“I mean. It completely is! But, uh… not unappreciated. You really liked it that much?”

“I like you that much.”

Rhett didn’t know what to say to that. Link had just shown him how hard he was. Telling him that he ‘liked him too’ seemed kind of lame. 

“I wish you were here,” Link said, his voice gone into a kind of seduction mode that was making Rhett sweat. “So I could really show you how much I like you.”

“What would you… um. How would you go about that?”

“You told me once about how a blowjob out in the woods showed you that you should probably be with a guy instead of a girl. I bet I could give you one that narrows it down _which_ guy.”

“Fuck…”

“Would you like that, Rhett?”

Rhett nodded. Catching a quick glimpse of himself in the small rectangle in the corner of his screen, and quickly removing his costume hat. He had never felt so simultaneously ridiculous and turned on sitting there in leather booty shorts and cowboy boots. 

“You can touch yourself if you want. If you like the things I’m sayin’ to you.”

“Will you do it, too?” Rhett asked nervously. He hoped Link wasn’t turned off by the fact that he was a 30 year old man playing some version of ‘I’ll show you mine if you show me yours’. Link had been in a relationship with at least one other dude that Rhett knew of. For years. Rhett felt so far behind on where he should be and what he could offer sexually. 

His backslide in confidence was short lived, as Link seemed anything but turned off. His cheeks looked as hot as Rhett’s felt. And his breathing was noticeably heavier. 

“Yeah,” Link nodded. “Yeah, if you’re comfortable with it, I really want that.”

Rhett shimmied out of his shorts until he was down to just his boots. He didn’t shift his camera to show it all, he wasn’t sure he was ready for that; but he also couldn’t do what they wanted to do confined in those tight little shorts. 

He hummed a little as he wrapped his hand around himself and let his eyes slide shut as the fantasy that the grip was Link’s took hold. 

“Rhett?”

“Hm?” 

“You’re soundin’ real nice for me right now, but can I ask one thing?”

Rhett swallowed nervously. If Link wanted to watch him, like a porn clip or something, he didn’t know if he was comfortable with that. And he’d have to tell him, but _man.._. He didn’t want to disappoint him. And he wanted to be sexy for him. And be able to act like a dang adult about—

“Can you look at me? You keep… closing your eyes, and. I get that it probably just feels natural to do, but. You’re already literally farther away than I’d like while we’re doing this. And. I think it would help me feel a better connection if I can see your eyes. I’m sorry if this sounds stupid. I’ve just never done this before over video, and I-“

“You haven’t?”

“No! I’ve been kinda… out of the game for a while, and before that I was in kind of a long term relationship. The last year thereof, utterly sexless. So...”

Rhett had been so worried about if Link was going to think he was ready for All This, that he hadn’t thought to consider where Link’s head was. Rhett suddenly felt awful for assuming that Link was significantly more experienced than him. I mean, he definitely still _was_. But maybe not to the degree that he had imagined. 

And he felt even shittier that he’d imagined that Link might be approaching this casually. Like he wanted Rhett to show him his dick, when the truth was that he wanted to see Rhett’s eyes. 

He suspected they had a lot more talking to do. 

But he really didn’t wanna _talk_ right now.

Rhett experimented with looking at the camera in the right direction to give Link the impression that he was looking him in the eye. It wasn’t exactly intuitive, but he learned quickly and locked eyes with Link. He hoped that Link could feel the connection he was looking for; Rhett was certainly feeling something. 

“This good?”

“Oh yes, Rhett. That is really good. You still want me to suck you off before I have to go back on stage?”

“Yeah,” Rhett nodded, suddenly feeling very ready for this experience. He couldn’t take his eyes off Link’s lips as he spoke. They weren’t painted tonight, least not right now, but they honestly didn’t need the help. They were naturally stunning. He used his hand imagination to pair with the words that began to spill from those gorgeous lips. 

“I can’t stop thinking about sliding down that endlessly long body of yours, Rhett. Settling at your feet and imagining what the view would be from there. Now, I know you already got your pants open for me.”

“I wasn’t really wearing _pants_ exactly.”

They both laughed, and Rhett loved that. He’d never laughed with someone during any kind of sex… play? And it felt incredible. The feel good chemicals released from laughter combining with the endorphins already hyped up from what they were doing. 

“You’re right. I know you have those sleazy stripper shorts ripped off for me? Point is. I see your point.” Link winked. “Wanna give it a few strokes and really get acquainted. Feel the weight of you in my hand. Feel the heat from your body. How do you feel, Rhett?”

“I feel good in your hand. I’ve been wanting you to lay hands on me like this since I laid eyes on you.”

Rhett was surprised by how easy it was to talk like this with Link. He didn’t feel silly or self-conscious, like consciously he’s thought maybe he should feel. Everything simply felt _good_. He pictured Link on his knees, worshipping at his cock. Those impossibly blue eyes looking up at him. 

“Lemme get a taste, Rhett,” Link’s voice broke a little at the end, as he took a sharp breath and his eyes rolled back a bit.

He had said he would touch himself, too, but it made Rhett boundlessly giddy that he could tell that he was. 

“Please,” Rhett murmured. He was nervous that the hammering of his heart would somehow make his voice shake. “I wanna feel your mouth on me, all warm and wet.”

There was a sparkle in Link’s eyes as Rhett picked up his dirty talk a little. Maybe he hadn’t really thought he’d had it in him? That was a hint of a challenge. And Rhett was a sucker for a challenge.

He began to stroke himself more earnestly. “You feel so good, Link. You’re so... good at this.” He wondered if addressing Link by name like this gave him the same simultaneous burn and chill in his veins as he felt when Link did him. He liked how Link was always saying his name. He also started wishing they had… pet names or something for one another. 

“Think I can take the whole thing, Rhett? You’re such a big man,” Link’s voice grew low and gravelly and was spurring his hand onward. “But I bet I can get it down.”

Rhett knew it was just dirty talk, but he felt a transient wave of self-consciousness. He was unusually tall, but he didn’t feel like everything was proportionate to that fact. He was… average. Maybe on the big size? But not anything so breathtaking as his height. Had he always been paranoid about people fetishizing his height? _It’s just dirty talk, man._ He told himself. _Just go with it._

“Talented mouth like yours? Yeah, I think you can. I know I’d like to see you try. Mmmm… like that, Link…”

“Fuck, Rhett. I love how your cock fills up mouth. You taste so good.”

Rhett’s breathing hitched, and Link moaned in response. 

“Mmm… You like me moaning around your big dick, baby? Feeling my lips vibrate around your cock as you fuck my mouth?”

 _Baby…_ Rhett loved how that sounded on Link’s breath. His ex had called him ‘baby’ sometimes, but never during sex. It was always more the endearing way that his granny would call him ‘baby’. The way Link said it felt different. He wasn’t simply fond of Rhett. He called him baby like he wanted to take care of him. No one had ever really done that. And he loved it. 

He played the sound over and over in his mind as he stroked himself closer and closer. What he wouldn’t give to feel Link’s heavy breathing on his body as he came. 

“Link… I…. Hmnnngh. I’m close.”

“Yeah? Mmm, Rhett. That’s so hot. _You’re_ so hot. Goodness, I-...” Link trailed off and neither of them spoke as they both worked their arms, both careful not to lose sight of one another for too long. 

It was impossible for Rhett to not let his eyes slip shut for split seconds or involuntarily roll back into his head as he approached the precipice… But he wanted to look at Link, as he had asked. Feel that connection. 

His jaw unhinged as he groaned out a sigh, covering his spawning cock with his fist to save himself the cleanup later. 

He sheepishly held up a sticky trembling hand to the camera. Too come drunk to wonder if that was weird or gross. But it appeared to be okay, as Link’s breathing went from deep and heavy to sped up and shuddering. 

Rhett knew that Link couldn’t be loud, hiding out at his workplace somewhere. A bathroom? A closet? But he seemed to be holding back as he uttered a strangled sounding “Fffffuuuu….” and blew out a cool exhale of relief. Rhett couldn’t help wondering, if they were somewhere together or more private, would he have liked to be loud?

“Wow…” Rhett softy gasped. 

“Amazing.”

They were comfortably quiet for a few seconds before Rhett broke the silence. 

“When do you get off?” 

Link cackled giddily, and Rhett joined in the laughter as his foggy brain caught up to what he’d just asked. 

“No, but seriously. When are you done for the night?”

“Uhh… closer to morning than night. Four thirty AM.”

“I can meet you somewhere? The diner, your place? I can buy or make you breakfast, if you want. I’m sorry if I’m sounding desperate. I just… I feel like I gotta see you.”

“I don’t think that sounds desperate. Or I guess I’m desperate, too.” Link said with a grin. “Get some sleep, beautiful. I’ll text you the address of the diner, so you can meet me in the early morning.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three letters for you: DTR
> 
> This chapter is a bit of a calm before the storm. If calmness can be equated to awkwardness. And storminess to sexiness.

Rhett pulled into the parking lot of the diner just as the sun was rising. His eyes burned a little from lack of sleep, but when he saw Link’s car already in the parking lot it gave him a jolt of adrenaline. Leaving him feeling more energized than any cup of coffee could have done for him. He planned on having coffee anyway, just to be on the safe side. 

He parked next to Link’s car, and waited for him to notice. Link startled when he recognized Rhett there, but then he was grinning ear to ear, those blue eyes sparkling with an almost childlike wonder that made Rhett’s heart melt. Grown men just… didn’t look like that. But Rhett felt like the world might be a better place if more of them did. 

They got out of their cars to awkwardly greet one another. There was a bit of a gap in their familiarity. They hadn’t spent as much time together face-to-face as either of them would have liked. But they  _ had _ been seeing an awful lot of each other over screens. Sharing in such intimate acts that it made Rhett think that greeting each other with anything less than a hug would have been ridiculous. 

Link folded easily into Rhett’s arms. Like he belonged there. He fit like a puzzle piece, and achings that he hadn’t even fully known were there were instantly soothed. 

“I missed you, Link.” The words felt inadequate, but they were true. 

Link clung to him more tightly, beneath the cover of Rhett’s arms, and Rhett took that to mean that Link had missed him too. 

Rhett took in the sight of him. He wasn’t wearing anything that suggested where he might have just finished work. Rhett was sure that he would eventually stop being surprised that there was no telltale aura around Link just glowing like a neon sign indicating that he took his clothes off for a living. Or at least a portion of his living. He wore jeans that fit him devastatingly well, and a casual looking button down short sleeve shirt. The navy color of the shirt made his eyes seem even more bright and crystalline.

They sat down and both ordered coffees. Rhett ordered a Denver omelet, with home fries and bacon. Link ordered a bacon cheeseburger with onion rings. 

“For breakfast?” Rhett asked, feigning judgement. 

“This is the end of  _ my _ day,” Link reminded him with a wink. 

Their legs came together like magnets, drawn to one another in a game of footsie at the first opportunity. As if the point of contact, even if it was just a subtle touch of their shoes, was a grounding force. They could breathe easier, with that subtle point of connection. 

“Are your nights always so long?”

“Not always, it’s kind of up to each person what kind of hours they work. I would like to scale it back a little, so we can hang out more.”

“Oh.” Rhett was torn between feeling flattered and guilty at the prospect of disrupting Link’s work schedule.

“But I’ve needed to put in the hours lately, both for practice and cash. And I’m also hoping that we’re gonna get to see each other  _ at work _ if amateur night goes as amazingly well as I anticipate it will.”

Rhett’s eyes dropped to his coffee. 

“No pressure,” Link quickly added. “Anything goes sideways, and I’m gonna open up my schedule to see you more often. So either way, we’ll be together more. But I just have this feeling you’re gonna kill it, and then we’re gonna be coworkers…”

Rhett sighed nervously. “I’m really getting accustomed to that idea, too. It is a little bit of pressure.” He decided to go ahead and be vulnerable. “Aside from embarrassing myself on stage, I also... really don’t wanna disappoint you. I mean, you just believe in me  _ so much _ . Why is that, Link?”

Link’s eyebrows knit together with confusion. “Why are you so skeptical of my interest? You’re… an amazing person.”

Rhett’s cheeks flushed pink from more than the rush of caffeine. 

“I’m still… working on confidence, I guess. And I get some cognitive dissonance ringing in my ears when I try to hold the way that I see myself and the way that you see me in the same space in my head.”

“I’m a little self-conscious, and… rusty? In some areas as well. I think we need to renew our promises that we made at karaoke night. To just kinda take it easy on ourselves and each other. And just relax, and... have fun?”

Rhett nodded. It did feel like they were putting a lot of pressure on something that actually felt very natural. He figured it probably wouldn’t hurt to loosen up trying to clutch at the situation so tightly. 

But there were some things that had crossed his mind earlier, and the tone of their video chat hadn’t seemed the time to discuss. 

“So, you really haven’t… dated in a while?”

Link’s soft smile shifted into more of a smirk. “That so surprising?”

“Well, yeah,” Rhett said matter-of-factly. “You’re wildly good looking and all that. You’re… ‘out’? Right? And like, comfortable with your sexuality. And with sexuality in general. These are, like, all things that I aspire to, and attribute a lot of the gap in my dating resume to.”

“I think you’re already up to speed on the good looking part.”

Rhett rolled his eyes. He didn’t know if he’d ever get over how sincerely Link could casually compliment him. 

Link cleared his throat. “I guess I’ve just been a bit… guarded since my last relationship. The break has been good for me.”

“But you think you’re ready now?”

Link’s smile grew wide and warm. “Yeah. Yeah, I definitely think so.”

His smile was infectious and Rhett couldn’t help grinning as he softly shook his head. “Man, I hate to go down this road again so soon. I mean, it’s been all of five minutes. But why  _ me _ ?”

“I could tell from the moment we met. Bumping into one another at that coffee shop. You’ve got layers. And I wanna see what’s under each and every one. And everything I’ve uncovered up until this point… has only made me more into you. I just. I feel like we coulda known each other before… like, if we had met back in the Carolinas? I didn’t know that when we met, that we were from the same area. But that feels  _ right _ . That we both uprooted from the same place? I don’t know what I’m saying now. I’m tired, and rambling, and…”

Their food arrived, and the mood lightened. They began to eat and didn’t speak for a little while. 

“I like how you see us, Link. And since you acknowledged our shared upbringing, I’m hoping you’ll understand my being a little bit old fashioned on some things?”

Link’s eyebrows popped up like a confused puppy. 

“Nothing crazy. Just. Are we… like. Are you seeing anyone else? I mean. No reason I think you would be, I just wasn’t sure if we were… dating? Like. Are you my  _ boyfriend _ ?”

Rhett was so mortified by how all of that just fell out of his mouth, metaphorically landing in a jumbled mess onto Link’s plate.

“Rhett?”

Rhett took a deep breath and fought to keep from covering his face with his hands or just melting into the booth to escape his mortifying existence and assimilate into the furniture. But he managed to force his eyes to meet Link’s. 

Link reached across the table to hold his hand. “Would you officially like to be my boyfriend and date me, exclusively? We’ve kinda missed the window in life to be exchanging class rings or varsity jackets. But. If there’s any other old fashioned things you want from me, just name it.”

“I am… so embarrassed that I’m like this. But, so happy that you’re working with me on it. I think I just wanted confirmation that we were moving in the same direction here.”

“Is that a yes?” 

“Duh!”

“You’re so freakin adorable. I’ve never seen such a big man act so precious.” 

“Gosh, Link… Just when I think I can’t blush any harder.”

Rhett felt a thousand times lighter as they continued eating. 

“Hey, Rhett?”

“Mmm?” Rhett answered through a mouth full of potatoes. 

“You don’t get a monopoly on awkward conversation. You know that, right?”

“What’s up?”

“So… Some people consider dancing sex work. Did… you know that?”

“Okay…?”

“I don’t...  _ do _ other kinds of sex work. I don’t know if that matters to you, or not. But if we’re gonna… date each other… exclusively. I don’t know if that was something you’d want to know. And also, if you’re gonna start dancing—“

“I think I gotta get through amateur night first.”

“Oh please,” Link rolled his eyes. “You’re gonna do great. But when you  _ do _ start dancing, you’re inevitably gonna have to make decisions for yourself about clients. Other kinds of sex work. And I just want you to know, you don’t have to make the same decisions I do. I don’t look down on it, I just don’t choose it for myself. I meant what I said about not normally dating people from the club. Customers. I. I don’t mind being objectified professionally. It’s kind of a rush actually. But personally. I- I guess I get a little uncomfortable when I feel like people think it’s  _ exciting _ dating a stripper. Or It’s gonna be all champagne and wild sex. I… I fell for you at the coffee shop, because you remind me of home. Like someone that might enjoy more low key activities. Like—“

“Sipping bourbon on the deck? Listening to country music into the wee hours?”

Link smiled. “I just… I fully acknowledge that there are two sides of me, and I know they’re kinda hard to marry…”

Rhett snorted, “I mean… If either side is askin’?”

They both laughed. 

“Seriously, Link. I like every side of you I’ve gotten the opportunity to see. And I think I can tell the difference. And if I mess up, which, I am liable to do. You just gotta promise to let me know. There’s a lot of stuff you’re probably gonna have to let me know. That’s actually one thing I’m worried about. For you. Having to hold my hand so much. After the caretaker role you had to have in your last relationship… I don’t want to just be a new burden.” 

“I am looking forward to doing a lot of hand holding. As long as they’re your hands.” Link gave their already clasped hands a squeeze. “You said ‘one thing’ you’re worried about. Are there… other things?”

Rhett shrugged. And took a deep breath. “If I can be blunt, I’m just real nervous about a lot of the sex stuff.” The volume dropped out of his voice at the word ‘sex’ like he was an R rated movie being shown on network television. “I mean, I’m excited. Like.  _ Real _ excited about it. But… I don’t know how to explain it. I guess I don’t really like being objectified all the time either? Like, there are certain expectations that I feel… beholden to. That I should  _ be better _ at stuff than I might be now? Cause I been doing it the wrong way for so freakin long, I don’t suspect that I’m gonna know exactly—“

“Honey,” Link soothed. “I got no expectations. It’s  _ all _ gonna be new for us, because we are new to each other.”

Rhett didn’t exactly believe that. But he was relieved that Link wanted to think of it that way. 

“And,” Rhett continued. “Please, don’t get me wrong. Everything you said earlier in the video chat was super…” His eyes wandered the largely empty diner. “ _ Sexy.  _ But when you talk about how, uh-  _ big _ I am, or tall. Everyone always makes a joke about things being  _ proportional _ . But. I feel like I’m just... normal? There?”

“Rhett, I didn’t mean anything by it.” Link looked slightly embarrassed. “I mean, I just was guessing that any dude would wanna be told what a big dick they got while dirty talkin’.”

“No. I mean,  _ Yes _ . I did like it. I just don’t like people thinking that since I’m freakishly tall, I’m freakishly… hung?”

Link giggled, and the sound out Rhett’s whole being at ease. “Rhett, I love how big you are. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think about the size of your body a lot. But I promise you, I never made any assumptions about… proportions. In fact, you just shared something with me that I hadn’t even thought to be  _ worried _ about! If I try to do the proportions on comparing our heights and then making your  _ dick  _ proportional, I… I think I’d pass out if that cross-multiplication actually checked out.” 

“Are our conversations always gonna be this awkward?” Rhett laughed.

“If you’re equating awkwardness to openness and honesty… I certainly hope so.” 

“I do feel better after talking. Not about the whole size thing. I’m still a little mortified about that.”

Link cackled. 

Rhett clarified, “But I am happy that I can think of you as my boyfriend. Even if it’s a kind of juvenile distinction.”

“I’m happy, too, honey.”

Rhett wasn’t sure when Link had decided to call him ‘honey’. But that was the second time he’d done it today, and Rhett had decided he liked it. Never before had anyone called him something so sweet. 

Rhett reached for the check, but Link placed a firm hand over his. 

“You’re not gonna let me pay?”

“You went out of your way, waking up at an unholy hour of the day to have a meal with me.”

“It was my idea,” Rhett reminded him. “To meet for breakfast.”

“Still not gonna let you pay,” Link said with a wink. “I’ll let you walk me to my car though. Maybe even let you press me against it and make out for a hot minute before I gotta go home and get some shuteye.”

Rhett knew he should be ashamed at how his dick reacted to the mere mention of kissing Link. Of pressing their bodies together… But it was becoming increasingly difficult to feel ashamed about  _ anything _ when he was around Link. 

That should come in handy, as the next time Rhett reckoned he would see Link in person would be amateur night at the South Pole. And he was gonna want to be as shameless as possible. 


	16. Chapter 16

The dressing room was in overcrowded disarray with the extra dancers, Rhett included, turned up for amateur night. It was impossible to keep the clothes organized on the racks. One of the racks had tipped over, leaving a pile of costumes on the floor. Leather booty shorts. Red panties. Crop tops. Glitter and sequins everywhere.

Link had let Rhett use his locker, a perk that other new dancers didn’t have. Link was sparing himself the clusterfuck of the dressing room scene on amateur night. He must have seen this shit show several times before, and knew he’d have a better view and more peaceful mind out at the bar - rather than bearing witness to the chaos backstage. 

Rhett understood that decision. A few of the regular dancers were performing that night, but by and large the evening’s entertainment would be provided by the amateurs. There was no reason Link should be backstage, fawning over Rhett like a stage mom. But as his turn to take the stage drew closer, Rhett was missing the security of Link’s proximity. 

Rhett stood in front of the mirror, still not fully believing that he was actually going to go on stage in this ridiculous getup. He was starting to sweat. Partially from nerves. Partially from the black, crushed velvet suit he was wearing. He watched the way the rhinestones and gold studs shined under the dressing room lights, and tried to imagine how he’d look under the brighter stage lights. The soft bulbs reflected brightly off the gold belt around his black cowboy hat. The matching gaudy belt and buckle rested over his belly button, casting a shimmery golden reflection on the pale and bare patch of skin visible where his jacket parted slightly.

“Not gonna get any less sweaty once you're under the lights and moving around there, big guy.”

Rhett looked over to see the Chippendales-looking guy that he remembered from one of his times at the club.

Rhett just nodded, noncommittally. He didn’t want to step out of line as a newbie, but he did not appreciate the patronizing tone the veteran dancer was taking with him. 

“Wait a sec,” the beefy brunet said. Just when Rhett was hoping that maybe the guy  _ hadn’t _ remembered his previous visits. “Guy your size, I can’t believe I didn’t notice sooner. You’re Link’s little pet project aren’t you?”

Now the dude was really pissing Rhett off, and he was afraid of what might come out of his mouth if he chose to respond. He didn’t know this guy  _ at all _ , and he was being a total prick. Rhett had never been in a fistfight as an adult, and decided that changing that right before what was essentially serving as a sort of job interview... didn’t seem smart. Rhett’s rational mind was about to go to war with his boiling blood when he was spared by somebody else’s intervention.

“Give it a rest, would ya, Rick?” 

Another familiar presence in the club. It was the dry-humored silvery blond that had let Link know that Rhett was looking for him the time that Rhett had… come looking for him. 

So, the prick had a name.  _ Rick the Prick.  _

Rick snorted and rolled his eyes. “You’re actually cool with this?”

“I said,  _ get fucked _ , Rick.”

Rick flipped his coworker the bird and walked away. 

“Uh. Thanks for that. Dude was really getting under my skin.”

“Yeah. He’s good for that. I’m Adrian, by the way. Don’t know if I’ve actually introduced myself.”

“I’m Rhett.”

“Don’t let him throw you off your game, Rhett. That’s what he’s trying to do, y’know?”

“Is it really so competitive amongst y’all? I don’t know why I pictured it with more… camaraderie?”

“It can vary from person to person. Not everyone’s like Rick. I’d say most people here see each other as coworkers and collaborators rather than competition. So, is it true you’re... dating Link?” 

”I… Is it really bad if I am? Like, is it  _ unprofessional _ or whatever? Is that why Rick’s pissed?”

“Pshh… We ain’t got time to unpack all the reasons Rick might be pissed on any given day. But, no. It’s not a bad thing, you and Link. You seem like a really good guy, Rhett. And I like what you got goin’ on here!” Adrian gestured to Rhett’s ensemble.

Rhett was viscerally uncomfortable, despite Adrian’s friendliness. Maybe the contrast was too sharp after Rick’s malicious digs. But Rhett felt like his chest was about to cave in as Adrian lightly dragged a finger over Rhett’s sequin and studded collar. Perhaps without the distraction of Rick’s taunts, the nerves were kicking back in. 

“Knock ‘em dead, cowboy,” Adrian told him, tipping the imaginary brim of an invisible hat. 

Rhett could hear the performer on stage before him winding down his performance. The music cut out and the crowd hooted and hollered their approval. 

The aspiring dancer came in looking happy but a bit shaken. Relieved maybe? Like a giddy person just off a rollercoaster, succumbing to the adrenaline crash. 

“Oh fuck,” Rhett exhaled under his breath.  _ Guess I’m really doing this.  _ He felt an unseen pull dragging him toward the stage, and he waited for his cue. 

“This may be his first rodeo,” the emcee announced. “But I, for one, am looking forward to seeing this tall drink of water saddle up!” Judging by the crowd’s reaction, Rhett could only assume that he’d done some sort of lewd gesturing. “Please join me in welcoming our next performer to the stage. Let’s give a big ‘ _ Howdy’ _ to Calamity James!”

With one final deep breath in the shadows, Rhett stepped out onto the stage. 

The spotlight dimmed and the theme from  _ The Good, the Bad and the Ugly  _ played as Rhett took his place. The cracks of the whips in the song elicited delighted squeals from the already riled up crowd. The music faded out and for the briefest moment the stage was dark and silent. The disembodied voice of Conway Twitty made the briefest of appearances as the speakers boomed the words ‘ _ Hello Darlin’  _ before the lights erupted with bright color and the music shifted into something more traditional for the venue. 

That opening had ensnared the crowd. They were eating the whole theme up, and Rhett’s nerves shifted to an adrenaline high not unfamiliar to him as a musician. This was a wholly different kind of performance, but the thrill was like an old friend welcoming him with open arms. 

The lights were near blinding. From under the brim of his hat, Rhett’s eyes scanned the crowd and could just barely identify Link in his ‘street clothes’, glasses and all, sipping on a coke at the bar. Fuck, he looked good. He wore grey jeans and a blue henley that hugged his body just right. 

_ Get through this _ , Rhett told himself.  _ Lose yourself in this song and make Link proud. Then get back to that body and lose yourself in those blue eyes that that shirt brings out so nicely.  _

The music was almost deafening. Rhett hadn’t expected it to seem quite this loud, and he wasn’t sure he would have been able to follow it had he not rehearsed so much that he knew his routine by heart. At this point, it was second nature. His body moved without having to take cues from the music. His mind was free to wander, he grinned and flirted with the crowd. He beckoned to them with his hands, and shook his hips to the beat, slow and sensual. Teasing. His face partially obscured by the black cowboy hat tilted down over his face, Rhett worked within the shadows. He gave the crowd just enough of his body and a bit of his face, giving them time to get all worked up. 

In one swift movement, Rhett was able to tear away the cleverly tailored crushed velvet pants to reveal slightly more breathable, infinitely more flexible black velour booty shorts. The ripping sound of the velcro didn’t even register over the volume of the music, or the crowd screaming with approval. His shiny gold belt and ostentatious buckle still in place across the high waist of the shorts.

The audience cheered, and Rhett’s ears isolated more than one or two shouts of “Yee-haw!”

He danced close enough to the crowd to encourage them to throw bills at his boots as he writhed and undulated his way past them. After making his rounds, he returned to center stage to slink and peel his way and out of the velvet jacket. He made a slow show of revealing his pecs, and relished the tightness of the thick fabric as he worked it down his long arms, mentally preparing himself to begin the more physical aspects of his dance. 

Rhett grabbed the pole and swung himself around it. He was giddy at how good it felt to let physics take control of his body’s momentum as he spun. Again, the pull and stretch of his body moving in ways that he was unaccustomed to. 

When exactly in his life had he stopped discovering new ways to move and feel?

He used his core muscles to keep himself from flying off the pole and crashing to the stag. He came to a rest and walked to the edge of the stage, turning his back to the audience with flair and stood with his legs wider than shoulder width apart. He bent down to stick his ass out at the crowd, wiggling his butt as he ran his hands down his own thighs, over his caves and all the way down to his boots - making a full show of how long his legs were. 

A tipsy woman held a hundred dollar bill up toward him, and Rhett managed to lean into his bent over stretch with enough flexibility to catch the bill in his teeth. 

It wasn’t sanitary, but it was a rush. The lady was so delighted that it made Rhett feel light headed. Or maybe that was from having his head below his chest for this long. 

Rhett stood up and tucked some of his tips into his shorts, slowly provocatively, throwing his head back like the money must’ve been caressing his cock as he stuffed it down the front of his velour shorts. 

He made sure to flex his rear ended as he strutted back to center stage. 

He undulated his hips, slowly unzipping the delicate zipper that kept him from bursting out of his shorts. Teasingly revealing a white stripe of skin along the side of his hip, and devilishly looked out at the crowd with a coquettish look, as if to ask,  _ What do y’all think? Should I…?  _ before finally rotating his hips in movements that helped to shimmy him out of the shorts and down to what looked like a speedo. It was as bare as Rhett dared tonight.

The crowd didn’t not seem disappointed, and they erupted into cheers and wolf-whistles. Their encouraging reaction shot Rhett up with all the adrenaline he needed to finish his number and then some. He moved right back into the dance, thumbing the band of the black speedo, revealing forbidden peeks of skin perilously close to the promised land. Nearly dragging them down to his cock. On a whim, he cupped his bulge and stroked himself through the smooth fabric. 

He couldn’t resist glancing over at Link in the crowd. He was relieved to see his mouth fallen open with delight. Not looking scandalized, or like he might be going too far. 

Rhett thrust forward, and realized that he was hard. He’d gotten turned on from the excitement of it all: feeling sexy, the approval of all these strangers, the euphoric look on his boyfriend’s face. The way Link’s eyes never seemed to have left Rhett’s face, even as Rhett had removed his shorts. 

It made Rhett shiver. 

The music picked up and Rhett shook his ass relentlessly to the beat. The screams from the crowd were deafening, and the money piled up as it lined the edge of the stage. 

Rhett struck his final pose as the last note hit, and the lights cut out. The reaction of the crowd felt unreal. He wasn’t sure if the response from the audience was, in fact, greater than the performers before him - or if he was just hearing it differently. But it felt great, as he quickly rushed around the darkened stage collecting his tips and discarded clothing.

He had barely cleared the entrance to return to the dressing room when he was nearly knocked backward by the force of Link’s hug. 

“You did…. Incredibly!” 

Rhett was just shaping his mouth to thank Link for the compliment, but Link was pulling him down for a kiss that made his heart and mind race. If anyone backstage had heard any rumors or had any question about Link’s relationship to the newcomer - this display certainly cleared things up. 

“Gosh, Link…” Rhett blushed, when Link pulled back for air. “You think I did that well?”

“Man, I was standing back at the bar by the manager. By the end of the performance I literally heard him saying there’s a contract with your name on it, if you want it.” 

“Holy shit.”

“Right? I’m so hype for you right now! We should celebrate! Get dressed and lemme get you a drink. You can go as wild as you like, I’ll drive ya home. You’ve earned it!”

Rhett felt like he was on another plane in his elation. He wanted to celebrate, too. But he had other ideas.

“Why don’t we skip the drinks part, and you can… drive me home right now?” 

They shared a significant look that lit a low fire in Rhett’s gut, as Link slowly nodded. “Sure… Yeah, get changed and meet me at my car?”

“All right then.” 

Link opened his locker for Rhett, and then made his way to the exit. As Rhett followed Link with his eyes, he noticed the same prick giving him a dirty look. He wasn’t going to let it deflate him any. He remembered Adrian reassuring him that they were coworkers, not competition. 

And  _ nothing _ and  _ nobody _ was going to spoil the rest of this night for him.


	17. Chapter 17

The music from the club downstairs thumped loudly as Rhett led Link up the stairwell to his apartment on the third floor. They could still feel the music even once inside. It was something that Rhett was accustomed to, but that he was feeling very self-conscious about now that he had Link in his apartment. 

Link’s apartment was quiet, clean - almost to a level that felt cold, sterile, and not particularly homey. But Rhett did wonder what Link thought of his cheap, thin walled, very much ‘lived in’ apartment. 

“I love your place,” Link said, with awe shining in his eyes. “It feels… like you.” 

Relief flowed through Rhett’s body as Link walked around the space, taking it all in. 

“Huh,” Link commented, as his foot nudged the overflowing laundry basket. 

“Oh, yeah… I, uh, was gonna get to that soon.”

Link chuckled. “I don’t care about that. I was just noticing the t shirt in there. Wolfpack, huh? NC State then?” 

“Yeah, man!” Rhett said excitedly. “Wait. We did graduate the same year, didn’t we? Don’t tell me you were there at the same time! I know I woulda remembered you. I mean, the timing woulda been awful if we’d met then, but I…” Rhett shook his head, biting his bottom lip. “I  _ know _ I would have remembered you.”

“Nah. But I was at UNC Greensboro. Just, like, an hour away…”

“So unreal.”

“Like you said, neither of us was ready for one another at the time. But it  _ is _ crazy to think how… relatively close we were.”

Rhett shook his head and chuckled. “I’m still not sure I’m ready for ya… But I’m glad we met when we did,” Rhett boldly pulled Link in for a kiss. 

They were both breathing heavily when their lips parted. Link’s eyes were blazing blue fires, setting Rhett’s whole body burning for him. 

“You were so good tonight, baby,” Link told him. “Lemme dance for you. The way I’ve wanted to since you first saw me on stage.”

Rhett wanted to do more than dance, but he was fine with taking it slow. He’d done nothing  _ but _ take it slow up until this point. No point in rushing now. 

There was no costume or makeup. It was just Link. As if Link were ever that simple... As he began to move, he seemed otherworldly and unattainable. Like a celebrity meant to be ogled, and not held. 

There was no music playing in Rhett’s apartment, and Rhett was worried he didn’t own the kind of records that Link was used to dancing to. But Link instinctively fell in with the rhythm with the thumping bass from the club downstairs. Without the full audio of the song, just the primal and driven beat, it was as if Link was dancing to the pounding of a heart or a pulse. 

It was just about the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. 

Link walked Rhett back towards his own futon until his calves knocked into the mattress of the daybed. Rhett’s already weakened knees buckled and his legs folded, plopping him into a seated position as Link straddled his legs on either side of his knees, still managing to twist and writhe his hips - even having positioned himself well-stretched across Rhett’s larger frame. 

Link’s body, objectively, was hot. But moreover, he was warm to the touch, keyed up and throwing heat like a furnace. 

And this wasn’t a club, so Rhett was allowed to touch. Well, as much as Link wanted him to touch anyway. Which generally - and inexplicably, in Rhett’s mind - seemed to be a heck of a lot. 

With Link’s guidance, Rhett placed unpracticed hands on either side of Link’s gorgeous hips, feeling the movement of his taut muscles beneath his jeans like a wild animal flexing under its sleek skin. 

Link teased at the hem of his blue Henley and began to slowly peel the shirt up his body, toward his matching eyes and up over his head. Rhett’s hands traveled up his denim covered hips to rest on the hot skin of Link’s waist. He couldn’t help his thumbs from lightly caressing toward the middle of Link’s elegantly swaying and twisting form. 

As Link pulled the shirt up over his head, he subtly restrained his arms behind his back up around his shoulders. 

The challenge was burning clear in Link’s eyes, but Rhett was relieved that it was on his lips as well. Link was going to make this easy on him. 

“I’m offering you my body, Rhett. What do you want to do with me?”

The way that Link had stated it so plainly made Rhett sweat. But there was softness to Link’s boldness. His grin was wicked and playful. 

“Don’t worry,” he assured Rhett. “There are no wrong answers.”

Rhett’s heart was now speeding out of rhythm with the pulsing music from downstairs. But he settled into the syncopation, and stoked the confidence he had kindled earlier that night on stage. 

He pulled Link’s body closer, and settled him into his lap. Rhett just barely needed to crane his neck to reach Link’s hardened nipple with his teeth. He listened as Link’s breath hitched and then eased out as a pleased moan that Rhett took as reassuring. He gently rolled the nub with soft pressure and gentle licks, eliciting excited whimpers from Link. 

Rhett pulled back and licked a slow, wet stripe up and down Link’s body as Link squirmed and shivered under the feel of Rhett’s quick sharp tongue exploring his naked skin. 

His eyes lingered at the waist of Link’s jeans. 

“Can I… see the rest?” Rhett ventured. 

“Go ahead, Rhett.” Link kept his arms pinned behind his head with his shirt, and nodded down toward his jeans. 

Rhett could feel himself swelling in his pants as his shaky hands settled on the top button of his fly. Poised to reveal more than he’d seen from Link, even at the club. He gently slid his fingers underneath the rough fabric, feeling the warmth of Link’s smooth skin beneath his fingers before slowly undoing the zipper and peeling back the denim. 

He looked up to find Link hungrily watching as Rhett tugged his jeans down to his knees, not wasting any time before sliding his underwear down to meet them. Rhett was met with the delicious sight of Link’s fully aroused cock bobbing in front of him. Flushed, hard, and needy. 

Rhett’s mouth began to water, and his eyes drifted up to again meet Link’s. 

He seemed pleased by Rhett’s reaction to his body. 

“No wrong answers, Rhett. This is  _ your _ celebration…”

“I want… so many things right now.” Rhett’s brain was buzzing, his cock was throbbing, and he could hardly decide where to start. 

All he knew was that he didn’t want to wait any longer. 

“I wanna... taste you,” Rhett wasn’t used to talking like this, but Link made it feel easy. 

“Oh, I want that, too, baby,” Link cooed, and suddenly Rhett felt so delicate under Link’s gaze. Link was the one that was essentially bound at both his arms and legs by his half-stripped clothing, with his dick out and seemingly at Rhett’s mercy. But Rhett couldn’t ever remember feeling so… poised to  _ serve _ . He wanted Link to feel good. And to be proud of Rhett. He wanted it like oxygen. 

Rhett leaned forward and let his lips slide softly over the delicate skin of Link’s head. 

Link’s knees reflexively shook like they might buckle which made Rhett pull back. Link whined and thrust his hips, subtly begging for Rhett’s mouth. 

Rhett used a hand to guide Link’s dick toward his eager tongue. He licked and caressed the sensitive head with utter reverence. He got it nice and slick with his saliva, to the point where it just glided past his lips. Rhett could taste how the slit began to weep with gratitude. 

The trembling in Link’s knees intensified, and Rhett began to worry that his legs were gonna give out. 

He scooped Link up into his arms and set him down onto the bed, which was still in more of a sofa position. He wanted to change that configuration, but not before he clumsily tore Link’s shirt the rest of the way off, freeing Link’s arms to wrap around him. Link’s legs were still bound by his skinny jeans, and his lower half flopped around and kicked helplessly like the seafaring end of a merman stranded on land. 

Rhett happily helped him out of the constraining clothing, leaving him completely and gorgeously naked. 

Rhett’s hands flew to his own clothes, in a rush to join Link in his state of undress. 

“Slow down?” Link asked. Voice dripping like thick, raw, honey. “I mean, yes. Take your clothes off for me, but slowly? Please.”

Rhett did as Link asked, calming his breaths and his mind as he put on a slow show for Link. 

“What do you like, Rhett?”

“Um,” Rhett paused, before deciding to awkwardly put the question back to Link. “I mean, what do  _ you _ like? I mean, for example…?”

“I asked you first,” Link smiled. 

“I… guess I don’t really know yet.” 

“That’s okay.” 

Something in the way that Link said it made Rhett feel like maybe that really  _ was _ okay. Rhett had been so nervous that when they got to this point, Link might be annoyed by his inexperience. But he didn’t appear to be in any kind of hurry at all, which really put Rhett at ease. 

“Stand up for a sec?” Rhett asked, so that he could pull the daybed into its fully reclined ‘bed’ position. 

Link sat back down, making himself comfortable before inquiring, “Do you have lube?”

“Actually,” Rhett said shyly, “My ex got me this, uh... care package type of thing?”

Link’s eyebrows rose with playful curiosity. 

“It was kind of a joke. Like. Cliche bachelorette party type of crap. But I mean, it’s real. So? I don’t know, you wanna take a look?”

“Oh, absolutely.” 

Rhett drank Link in with his eyes, admiring the way that Link was able to relax comfortably completely nude. Not that there was anything to be insecure about, the man was perfect. But Rhett was not used to being casually naked around people. In his last relationship, naked was a thing that he became out of necessity to... get the job done. But otherwise he was modestly covered with a towel, shorts or a sheet. 

It took a lot of mental effort to appear effortless as he walked, stark naked, over to his closet to retrieve a small basket of items. There were a couple of small bottles of lube in assorted ‘fun’ flavors, novelty plugs and cockrings.

“Wow. Have you... experimented with any of these?”

Rhett shook his head.

“All in good time,” Link winked. “I think I have some... higher quality stuff you can try, if you ever feel up for it.” 

Link reached for one of the bottles, and squeezed a generous portion into his hand, a cheap artificially fruity scent began to tint in the air. Link began to stroke himself with the slicked hand.

Rhett’s grit his teeth behind his lips a bit, as he couldn’t help noticing that Link was quite a bit bigger than his own occasionally  _ adventurous _ finger had likely prepared him for mentally. He trusted Link, but he was realizing that maybe he did have a preference for how things proceeded tonight. 

But he began to suspect they were already on the same page as Link’s hand slipped below his hardened cock as he hiked the knees of his spread legs back. Link began to finger slowly at his hole with the pads of his fingertips and Rhett’s cock twitched at the sight. 

“I’ve been dreaming about you fucking me since I laid eyes on you,” Link confessed. “I like… got ready... earlier today. Just in case that was... something you might wanna do for me?”

Rhett was speechless. He didn’t know if there was anything he  _ wouldn’t  _ do for Link right now. He nodded slowly and approached the bed, and Link sat up to use more of the lube to coat Rhett’s cock. 

Rhett groaned, audibly, at Link’s touch. 

“I want you so bad,” Link husked. 

Rhett stopped himself from providing any further disclaimers to the fact that he didn’t entirely know what he was doing. Link knew that. And he didn’t care. So Rhett needed to get over it too.

“Were you watching what I was doing earlier… with my fingers?”

“Hell yes,” Rhett breathed roughly.

“Will you touch me like that?” There was a hint of a whine in Link’s voice. A hunger that was stirring something up deep within Rhett.

“Yeah,” Rhett huffed, as he leaned over Link’s body, encouraging him to lie onto his back. He was gaining confidence in how he moved with Link. There was a comfortableness, despite the foreginess space between them. Link’s body was a brand new landscape, yet as they gradually came together it somehow felt as if he was being welcomed home.

He touched Link between his legs, still wet from the lube. Link sighed as Rhett made contact, and Rhett couldn’t resist kissing his pouty lips.

“Touch me with your cock,” Link murmured against Rhett’s mouth.

Rhett thought that was an odd way to phrase what he’d had in mind.

Link must have sensed his hesitation. “Just… tease a little with the head?”

Rhett did as he was told and was rewarded as he watched Link’s eyes flutter and his body writhe and shudder. 

“Nnnngh, that’s nice…” Link sighed. “Little more? Please, baby…”

Rhett pressed in slowly, his jaw slowly falling open as his body hummed with pleasure at feeling Link’s body opening for him, hugging around his cock, with the same satisfying stretch over his skin as his tight costume had felt flexing over his body on stage. 

But like  _ a thousand  _ times better.

Rhett huffed, feeling a sweat begin to break across his forehead.

“Yeah, baby,” Link whined under him. “You feel incredible, just ease it in and out for me. The way you’re rubbing at my rim is fucking me up…”

Rhett’s breathing hitched at hearing Link talk like that, and he doubled down on his efforts to make Link feel good. He added more lube and felt light headed at the repeated sliding of his tip in and out of Link’s tight ass. 

“Wanna feel you, Rhett. Lemme feel the whole thing.”

Rhett held his breath and let it out slowly in time with the pace that he eased his shaft deeper inside of Link’s heat. 

“Fuuuuuuuck,” Link moaned, clawing with dull fingertips at Rhett’s arms and back. “God, you’re big… You feel so fucking good….”

Rhett’s brain could barely handle the filthy things spilling out of Link’s mouth as he gradually filled him. Rhett pulled back to watch himself disappearing in and out.

“Do you like how that looks, baby? I bet it looks good.”

“Holy shit….” Rhett stammered, sliding himself out just in time to come onto Link’s stomach.

Link all but giggled as Rhett shook his head, trying to breathe evenly.

“That looks good, too.” Link’s eyes dipped down at the shallow pooling on his belly.

“I’m sorry…. I couldn’t….” 

Link shook his head and began to sit up, “ _ Rhett _ , you were perfect. You felt incredible…. I—“

Before Link could sit up, Rhett pushed him back down. Link’s eyes flew open at the abrupt but evidently welcome show of strength. 

Rhett roughly took Link’s cock into his mouth, tasting a blended bouquet of filmy sweetness from the lube mixed with the saltiness of sweat and musk of pure sex. 

Link’s dick easily knocked the back of Rhett’s throat causing him to gag a little, but Rhett didn’t give up. He sucked until Link’s thighs were quivering and he was a drooling and babbling mess. 

“I’m gonna come!” Link gasped. Barely able to string the words together. 

Rhett pulled off and wrapped his hand around Link’s now spit slicked cock, moving his hand over the super stimulated ridge as Link twisted the sheets in his fists as he moaned and whined getting closer and closer until he was shooting pearly strands across the soft golden fuzz of Rhett’s chest. 

“Holy shit…” Link gasped, mouth hung open in a wide and satisfied grin as he consciously echoed Rhett’s earlier…. compliments. 

“Yeah?” Rhett couldn’t help himself seeking the extra validation. 

Link chuckled and nodded. His eyes seemed to roam over Rhett’s upper body. He then slid forward to lick a bit of his own come off of Rhett’s nipple.

Rhett shook his head in disbelief. “You’ve gotta be the sexiest thing I ever seen,” Rhett said dumbly, before quickly correcting, “Person! Not thing.”

Link’s eyebrows waggled as he pulled himself up toward Rhett’s lips. “That’s all right. I’ll be your… sex thang.”

Link certainly was  _ something _ . 

He made Rhett feel like an actual sexual  _ being _ . Sure, Rhett had had sex before, but he was realizing that he hadn’t ever really felt sexy. He now felt capable of things that he didn’t think ‘normal people’ actually did in bed. Suddenly, he wanted to do all of the things. He wanted to do them with Link 

He kissed Link deeply, tasting himself on Link’s tongue. Trying to convey to Link with that kiss how far into this he felt. 

“I feel incredible,” Rhett said softly. 

“You are.”

Rhett rolled his eyes, but stopped short of not accepting the praise. “Thank you…. How are  _ you _ feeling?”

“Good. A little… tender. It had been a while since… y’know. But overall, very, very good. Like, so good I feel dizzy.”

Rhett knew he was grinning like an idiot. Then he had an idea. “Wait right there,” he whispered to Link.

Rhett began drawing hot water for a bath, and brought back some warm towels to help clean him up. 

“You can soak in there. I can get cleaned up in the kitchen sink. Can I… bring you a beer or somethin’?”

Link was still smiling, but there was no teasing as his eyes searched Rhett as if he was trying to spot some kind of flaw. “A guy could really get used to this, y’know?”

“I really hope so.”

Rhett found some clothes that fit Link well enough, and was completely endeared by how they loosely hung, slightly oversized for his frame. 

They held each other wordlessly for some time, curled up in Rhett’s bed. 

Rhett bit back the words several times as his mind chewed them over. But as he was deliberating over how much of his soul he should lay bare, he noticed a telltale shift in Link’s breathing. He’d fallen asleep in his arms. 

Rhett’s chest aches with contentment. 

_ No point holding anything back from a sleeping person,  _ he figured. So the words ghosted over his lips to dance across Link’s hair.

“This is the best day of my life. 

You’ve made me the happiest I’ve ever been. 

I love you.”


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhett's not having a great day...

Rhett’s personal life was as satisfying as it had ever been. Link was  _ wonderful _ . He came to see Rhett whenever he performed at the coffee shop, or when he played with the house band between sets or as openers. They traded weekends at each other's apartments and Rhett could slowly feel the different vibes of ‘his place’ and ‘my place’ fading and blending. It was effortlessly organic as they grew together. 

They didn’t expressly schedule their shifts at The South Pole together. But it was absolutely thrilling when they did sync up to share a shift. Rhett had thought that the novelty of watching Link perform might wear off after watching him so many times; or after having actually seen and  _ experienced _ him naked. But each time was like the first time - an absolute thrill, and Rhett could not get enough.

The same applied in the bedroom. Rhett’s confidence gradually built up and opened him to enjoying sex with Link more and more, and Rhett liked to think that might be true for Link’s experience of him as well. 

As fulfilling as his personal life was, his professional life was beginning to feel in crisis. Rhett kind of wondered if that’s all being an adult amounted to - jumping from crisis to crisis, solving one only to begin poking at a newly discovered imperfection. 

However, in this case, Rhett didn’t believe that he was being nitpicky. His worry felt valid. And that worry was best expressed as:

_ What the fuck was he doing? _

He was doing plenty. Doorman, bouncer, house musician, stripper. 

But he wasn’t sure what it was all adding up to. He had a never-used business degree idling in his back pocket. He was making more money dancing than he was playing music. Which he tried not to interpret as being a reflection on where his talents lied. Because dancing was challenging, and fun, and had helped him with a surprising amount of personal development stuff; but that’s not who he saw himself as at his core. And he didn’t love that that was where most of his money was coming from these days. Where most of his opportunities were coming from. He had hoped to make the extra money in order to have the freedom to be more choosey in the gigs that he took in cultivating his musical career. Maybe buy some time in a studio. But he felt like he was drifting from that path. He didn’t even necessarily want to be a ‘famous musician’. But he wanted to have an audience, and to feel like he had a unique experience and existence that he was capable of artfully articulating. He was worth being heard. He wanted to spend more time recording or performing than dancing. He just wasn’t there yet. 

Meanwhile, things weren’t always ‘magical and thrilling’ at The South Pole. 

Things were still tense between him and Rick. Competitive even. Tips were great and all, but there was more money to be made by doing private dances and earning the favor of repeat customers. Rhett felt like he had a natural magnetism that made those types of connections with clients easy to cultivate. However, Rick always seemed to find a way to actively wedge himself between Rhett and potential clients, inexplicably - in Rhett’s eyes - going out of his way to invest time and money into swooping in on them. 

It wasn’t financially devastating to Rhett, as he had his other sources of income And it wasn’t like he was trying to make a career out of this. But on principle, it was infuriating. If anyone with money seemed interested in him, you could bet your ass that Rick would be there with a business card full of social media perks, offers to take them out to dinner, and Rhett couldn’t confirm it - but he highly suspected that Rick was also sleeping with clients. 

Rhett would tell himself that it didn’t matter, that he was trying to put some boundaries in place with how deep he got into dancing anyway. But Rick’s shitty tactics still got under his freakin’ skin. He shouldn’t be allowed to do what he was doing. There had to be some guys that were trying to build a fan base honestly, and shouldn’t have to compete with or lower themselves to the way that Rick operated.

What bothered Rhett the most was when he took digs at him about Link, or about Link directly. Rhett didn’t understand where that was coming from. Link was very good at what he did, so Rhett could imagine Rick seeing him as competition - and maybe that’s where the chip on his shoulder came from? Rhett might have suspected that there could be a more...  _ personal  _ motivation, but from everything that Rhett had observed and heard from others - Rick was straight. Any flirting - or  _ anything else _ \- he might do with male clients was strictly business. Rhett wondered if Rick’s shitty attitude was at all homophobic in nature... But that didn’t completely check out as the staff at Snow Bunnies and The South Pole was fairly diverse.

Tonight was a difficult night for Rhett. He didn’t share a shift with Link, but Rick was there and absolutely full of himself like usual. Flashing smiles for the customers, and sneers toward Rhett. Rhett tried to ignore him, and just focus on his own performance. See if he couldn’t pick up a private dance or two that night if he found that he’d caught anyone’s attention from on stage. 

He had just started talking with one young woman, who it seemed was being spurred on by her girlfriends, and was interested in seeing more of what Rhett had to offer. He was laying on the full act, large hand resting over his gaudy gold and purple belt buckle - drawing all eyes to the… prize. Tipping his white cowboy hat and throwing around terms like “darlin” and “little lady” and really laying his natural southern dialect on artificially thick. 

That was when he heard Rick’s voice, like nails on a chalkboard, interrupting Rhett’s interaction, waving around free-drink cards, and offering to give the group a discounted rate. He even belittled Rhett by pointing out that he was still a novice while they looked like they could use someone with a little more experience.

Rhett’s blood was  _ boiling _ . 

He didn’t want to make a career of stripping, but he also wasn’t looking to get fired. The last thing he wanted to do was make a scene, or get people talking about him for the wrong reasons. So he grit his teeth, and decided to remove himself from the situation. He was smarter than this prick, he’d figure out some way to address it that didn’t involve whooping this guy’s ass and risk tearing his costume. Despite his size, Rhett had never been much of a fighter. But if ever anyone deserved a punch in the face…

He distantly heard Rick’s voice, like gasoline on an open flame, still taunting him as he walked away.

“You gonna go cry to your little boyfriend? Don’t get him all pissy on his night off. You know it’ll only upset him and his savior complex if he’s not here to be your white knight!”

Rhett felt like he had steam coming out of his ears, like a cartoon steam engine, as he cleared the floor moving as fast as he could for the emergency exit that only employees used back behind the stage. He kicked the door open with the full force of his frustration, and a heavy grunt.

Rhett was shocked and embarrassed to find that the alley was not empty, as he had been hoping. And he immediately felt like a complete jackass for the way he had stormed out there when he saw Adrian’s wide grey eyes. 

“Holy crap, I am so sorry. I--”

“It’s cool,” Adrian replied, using a cautiously optimistic and even tone that Rhett knew was usually reserved for talking down an unstable person, or resolving a hostage situation. He hated that he was _ that person _ , in this scenario. “Everything all right, cowboy?”

Rhett took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Adrian was such a stoic dude, it made Rhett feel low-key inferior for blowing up and having let Rick get under his skin. 

“Yeah, yeah… I just… need some air.”

“All right, well. Plenty of that to go around.”

Adrian was smoking a cigar. Not like a big ole stogie, but a little black-and-mild cherry-vanilla cigarillo. It actually smelled kinda nice, but it was still a filthy habit by Rhett’s estimation. Though, there was something inexplicably attractive about the disgusting act juxtaposed with the objectively beautiful boy engaging in it. 

It was all just a bit much for Rhett to process right now. 

Adrian offered him a friendly half-smile. He was generally so aloof and detached in his demeanor that the small grin carried near the equivalent weight of one of Link’s big ones.

It set Rhett at ease. Adrian was the complete opposite of Rick. He’d been kind to Rhett from day one.

“So,” Adrian began in his dry and humorous way, “I was the one that was already out here, but I feel like I’ve intruded?”

“Nah, man,” Rhett chuckled. “I’m sorry for bustin’ out here like the dang Kool-Aid man, I just... I needed a breather.”

“Rick?”

Rhett’s eyes snapped to meet Adrian’s, and that’s all it took to confirm Adrian’s suspicions. 

“Yup, he tends to have that effect on people. He sure can be…. well.  _ Rick _ .”

“What’s that dude’s freakin’ problem?”

Adrian shrugged. “He doesn’t like the competition, I’m guessin’. He’s been here a long time. Feels territorial, I guess? Some of us have other jobs, and this is just extra cash. He’s tryin’ to make this his sole income. Wasn’t too… welcoming toward me either when I started out.”

“You guys all right now? Like… Did he just get over it?”

“Well, I expect it might be worse on you. You can wear all the hot pink cowboy boots and flowery chaps you want, you still exude a more masculine presence than I ever could. And that’s kind of where he sees his market. Rick and I tend to attract different clients. Might be more overlap between y’all two.”

“He’s just a corny-ass Chippendale dancer, man! He’s not even creative with costume, choreography or  _ anything _ . How the heck is that him making an effort to take his profession or art seriously, or be competitive? He just relies on cutthroat tactics, because he knows he doesn’t have the talent to back his shit up!”

Rhett’s impassioned spiel elicited little more reaction than another casual shrug from Adrian.

“I’m not arguing’ with you, Rhett. Just sayin’, he gets pissed when talented newcomers steal some of his thunder. Whether that’s intentional or incidental.”

Rhett felt himself blush a little at the compliment. He wasn’t really trying to flirt with his coworker. And  _ Link’s  _ coworker. But the easygoing flow of conversation was calming the fire in his veins, which was helpful, if nothing else. 

“So... you got another gig on the side then? Were you referring to other sources of income?” Rhett asked, trying to steer things back in a more professional direction. 

“Not when I first started here, I didn’t. I was kind of in a ‘getting back on my feet’ sort of place at the time. But since then, I have gotten my shit a little more together, and now I got a little bar and grill. Kind of a…more authentic barbecue joint. At least, compared to some of the places out here.”

“No shit!” Rhett never could reel in his excitement when it came to food. And he got a kick out of trying to picture this ethereal dancer smoking meat. He felt a little guilty for having seen him in such a one-dimensional light. “That’s awesome, and you call  _ me _ talented? Dinner and a show. Ha!“ Rhett cringed at his irrepressible nervous laughter in the wake of his own joke. The last thing he needed was to scare off the one person, aside from Link, who was any sort of kind toward him.

Adrian shook his head and smiled. “Anyway, as far as me sayin’ you’re talented: I call them as I see them. Like you alluded to, you do put a lot into your choreography, and character and it’s a real fun show to watch. You had a great performance tonight,  _ Calamity James. _ ”

Something was slowly digging its way toward the forefront of Rhett’s consciousness, and getting in the way of Rhett accepting Adrian’s praise. It was like there was a word on the tip of his tongue, but it was more like a thought on the tip of his brain. A connection that was almost there, desperately needing just a little nudge to snap into place. 

Rhett was maybe 10 or 12 years old before he really understood that he had an accent. When your whole family speaks the same way, and everyone in your community, it just isn’t that noticeable. 

It even took him longer than one would think for him to place Link’s. 

Now there was something in Adrian’s speech… 

“That’s a…” Rhett swallowed the lump that was starting to take root in his throat, and tighten. “That’s a real authentic sounding drawl you’re wrapping up those compliments in.”

Adrian exhaled a cool stream of sweet smoke. 

“Well, yeah,” he snorted, sounding slightly more amused and caught by surprise than he had since Rhett made his entrance by kicking the door nearly off the hinges. “I do come by it naturally, after all. Growin’ up in the south…” He knit his silvery blond brows in mild confusion. “I thought you’d know all that? Went to college at UNC Greensboro... Same as Link.”


	19. Chapter 19

Rhett survived the rest of his work night in a trance-like state. Detached, like he was speaking lines through the costume of somebody else’s body. 

He’d somehow managed to play-off the interaction with Adrian. Like, _Of course, I knew that you dated Link. I mean, of course we have talked about this._ Why wouldn’t he have thought to mention that the severely good looking, and only decent human being, person at the place where they all work - was his ex-boyfriend?

He felt like he deserved some kind of award for his performance of a man completely unbothered. But, hey, he had to remember - he’d been existing performatively for far longer than he hadn’t been. Pretending came naturally, and slipping back into the persona of someone unaffected by _secrets_ or _lies of omission_ fit like sliding his foot into an old worn shoe. 

Sure, it was a fit that he was used to. But hadn’t he realized those shoes had holes? And that it didn’t matter if they were on the inside of the shoe, where only he would notice them. He’d thrown those shoes out before he moved away! 

When he stripped away the metaphor, his great frustration and disappointment was: how had he wound up here, lying again?

When Rhett got home, he didn’t call Link like he normally did. He didn’t know what he’d even say. He wasn’t sure exactly what he was feeling - or if it was even Link’s problem, or just his own problem. Was he mad? Jealous? Hurt, or what?

Okay, hurt. Yes. He was hurt.

But the fact that he didn’t know precisely how to name all the other ingredients in this cocktail of emotions made him feel like he needed to wait to have this conversation. He didn’t want to workshop that over the phone at what was, by now, very early in the morning. 

He took a long hot shower, and tried to exorcise the rudely transient images of Link and Adrian together that would flash into and out of his mind’s eye. Where he knew his tears would be washed away by the shower water as quickly as they formed.

 _Get a grip_ , Rhett told himself. _It was a long time ago. So what if Link didn’t tell you? There’s probably nothing left to tell..._

Rhett curled up onto his futon, not even bothering to pull it out into a bed. He turned on the television in an attempt to distract from the empty and aching feeling that was settling into his chest.

_Why wouldn’t he tell me?_

His phone vibrated against his chest, where he held it tightly despite having no intention of using it. He peeked down to see Link’s name flashing across the screen.

He ignored the call.

His phone buzzed again, and Rhett looked down at the text message. 

**_You okay? I tried to call_ **

Rhett’s chest tightened. He just couldn’t talk right now. Though he was desperately craving Link’s comfort, despite Link being the reason he was feeling like such a mess right now. He typed out a hurried excuse. 

_Long night._

_Think I’m just gonna go to sleep._

_Sorry._

**_If you’re sure you’re ok.._ **

**_Love you :)_ **

Rhett took a deep breath, feeling the cells of his lungs and entire being healed by seeing that typed out. Hating how much he loved seeing those words. He replied the only way he could. With the truth.

_I love you too_

He squeezed his eyes shut, and kept catching himself holding his breath with the effort of not crying himself to sleep. He felt like if he could just get through tonight he would be able to get over whatever this nagging feeling was. 

He hadn’t known something about Link, from a time when he hadn’t known Link at all. 

And now he knew that thing. 

So what? 

Nothing had changed. 

He was beginning to feel like this truly was his problem, and not Link’s. He would get over it, and not even have to bring it up. He tried to convince himself that this would blow over by morning, as he drifted to sleep to the white noise and the soft blue glow of infomercials playing on his television. 

——————

Rhett woke up feeling emotionally hungover. 

He cooked himself a greasy breakfast, which he’d probably regret later - but right now he needed the comfort of oily potatoes, and scrambled eggs with onions and peppers. Thick slices of toast with way more butter than was necessary. It would all sit like a brick in his stomach later, but it was a good distraction from the pit that had made its home there little more than 12 hours ago. 

He was self-aware enough to know that he hadn’t magically ‘gotten over’ his feelings from the night before. But he hadn’t _not_ gotten over them to the point that he wanted to cancel his plans with Link today.

First of all, Link didn’t even know he was upset to begin with. So, if Rhett canceled - they’d probably have to talk about that. 

Furthermore, the plans were kind of work related. And it just felt really unprofessional to cancel a work thing due to personal reasons.

Last but not least, Rhett wanted to see him. Even if he was upset with him.

——————

Link had had the idea that he and Rhett should perform together. Not many dancers chose to do that. It required a lot of coordination of practices, creative compromise, not to mention splitting tips. However, Rhett and Link were (generally) happy for any excuse to spend time together, and spending that time together pursuing a creative endeavor was pretty much a dream come true to Rhett. And neither one of them could care less about the tip money. 

Under normal circumstances, Rhett would be swooning at the prospect of spending the day with Link - discovering a new way to teach their bodies to know one another, and to move with one another. 

But this was not a normal circumstance, and Rhett was not feeling it.

And it was beginning to show. 

They kept crashing together instead of flowing. Rhett’s grips were a little too harsh and jerky. His mood wasn’t light, his movements were lumbering and not even in the ballpark of graceful. His hands were sweaty. At one point, he nearly sent Link flying into the mirrored wall of the studio.

“What the fuck, Rhett?” Link finally snapped. 

“I’m sorry!” And he was. None of this was intentional. “Maybe we should take a break.” His stomach lurched at his own phrasing. He didn’t really mean that. 

Had he?

“I swear, you’re gonna break _somethin’_!”

“I’m sorry.”

“Are you sure you’re all right, Rhett? You didn’t call me last night, and don’t think I didn’t notice you didn’t kiss me today. I’m not a paranoid type of guy, but I think anyone might suspect that you’re… I don’t know - mad at me…?”

Rhett sighed heavily. 

“So,” Link said, sounding more accusatory than sympathetic or defensive. “Are we gonna talk about this? Or do you wanna keep acting like it’s not bothering you? You suck at acting by the way. Good thing you’re a musician.”

Rhett was speechless. “How--?” 

“Adrian texted me this morning, askin’ me if everything was ‘cool’? So I dunno Rhett, are we ‘cool’?” 

“So, he still texts you, too? In addition to being coworkers?”

“We didn’t even _become_ coworkers until after we had broken up.”

“You got him the job? That why Rick is giving me shit about being another horse in your stable?”

“I don’t give a flying fuck what Rick has to say. Besides. Your ex buys you sex toys and lube and shit. But mine’s not allowed to _text me_?”

“Well, I’d say that’s different.”

“How?! How is it different.”

“She’s a woman!”

“I dunno, Rhett. Bisexual people… exist!?”

“No shit, Mr Sarcasm. But, I’m not one of ‘em.”

“I don’t automatically know that, now do I?”

“We’re getting way off track here…” 

“Oh, that’s right. This is about you being pissed off at me. Why?”

The way Link pronounced the “h” in the word “Why” was ripe for mockery. But, not wanting to risk things becoming even more petty, he let it slide. 

“Because…”

To Link’s credit, he waited. 

Rhett took a deep breath, “I was actually starting to wonder if there’d ever been anything between you and Rick…”

Link’s eyes went wide. 

“...I mean, why else would he be such an asshole? He really just likes money and competition that dang much? At least,” A lump lodged itself in his throat, and Rhett’s chest began to tighten. He was begging his brain to dam up his tear ducts somehow, because he really didn’t want to cry right now. He took a steadying breath. “At least he’s easy to hate. Adrian… he’s a really, really _nice_ guy. And, I mean - who am I kidding, talk about good looking! Plus…” Rhett couldn’t look Link in the eye as the tears began to spill over. “You never wanted to leave him in the first place. He fucked it up, but if he hadn’t...?”

“Hey…” Link soothed, stepping forward. His face fell as Rhett recoiled from his touch. “Rhett. Adrian and I get along. We want the best for each other. But that… We _aren’t_ the best for each other. I’m not in love with him. I love _you_.”

Rhett shook his head and tried to blink back his tears. “It’s not even about you still loving him. Or it’s not _just_ about that. I came… all this way. Geographically, emotionally. I didn’t get to this point - shedding all my lies, whether outright or by omission, to be with somebody that isn’t going to be 100% honest with me.”

“I’m sorry!”

“I know…”

“I knew it would make you uneasy, so I wanted to…”

“Protect me?” Rhett snickered. “Man, we _all_ work together! How in the world did you think I wasn’t gonna find out?”

Link bit his lip and turned his eyes toward the ceiling. “I didn’t even know it was gonna get to this point. I thought the novelty of… well, _me_ … woulda worn off long before now. And now that we are here, I didn’t wanna risk giving you a reason not to… I don’t know. None of this makes any sense when I say it out loud.”

“You got that right…” Rhett muttered. 

“There were already so many reasons for you not to want me. Why would I _ever_ willfully throw another log on that fire?”

“Not… want you? Link, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Really?” Link sneered. “You told your family about me yet?”

Rhett hadn’t anticipated this line of questioning.

“Didn’t think so. Ain’t nobody antsy to brag to their momma about their stripper boyfriend.”

“I… I’m not _embarrassed_ by you, Link. I—”

“If I’m being honest, I didn’t think that you would want to be with me for long enough for the details of my previous relationship to matter. But that was… _not_ sound reasoning. And I _am_ sorry. I won’t hide nothing else from you. I don’t think there’s anything left, but if I think of anything - I’m not gonna make any more executive decisions to... not disclose.”

“I appreciate that, Link. I just. This has been a lot. I just think I need a little… space? I… I feel like I can’t get the pacing right with us. And you’ve given me even more to think about now.”

Link was nodding. But he looked like a kicked puppy, and his voice broke when he spoke again. “Are we… are we okay, Rhett?”

“I think so. I just... I think I need to get some sleep. I slept like shit last night. And,” he smiled as he brushed tears from the corner of his eyes. “I might need to give my parents a call.”

Link offered a weak smile. “You gonna be able to work your shift at the club tonight? Or you want me to fill in?”

“Okay, _Rick_ ,” Rhett teased. “You after my money?”

Link rolled his eyes, and his smile turned a little more genuine. 

Rhett reached for his hand, and gave it a squeeze. “From now on—”

“Honesty. 100%.”

“Well, yes. But also, I need you to be operating under the assumption that I’m always gonna stick around. And I’m always gonna want you. I don’t care about your job, or your past, or… this isn’t some kind of tour just to get a stamp in my ‘dating passport’ for having visited... ‘dated-a-stripped’-land? I _do_ love you.” He swallowed the lump in his throat before adding, “So much that it hurts, apparently.”

Link squeezed his hand back. “Call me later?”

Rhett nodded before packing up his gym bag and heading home to take the deepest sleep that a midday nap had to offer. 


	20. Chapter 20

The past day had felt like at least three different days by Rhett’s estimation. He woke up from his nap feeling refreshed. He had nearly canceled his coffee date with Lake having felt so shitty upon initially waking up, but now that he was feeling better he was glad that he hadn’t. The original reason he’d kept the plans was pretty practical: he had to go by the coffee shop anyway, to pick up his paycheck. So might as well take care of the social obligation as well. And it didn’t feel like such an obligation at this point, now that his mood had lifted. He was actually looking forward to it, and knew that he could really use some third-party perspective.

  
  


The coffee shop was a little slower on a Sunday night. Rhett couldn’t help wondering how that boded for his tips later that night. Not like he hadn’t known what he was getting into when he signed up to work that shift, and it did have its perks. He was able to workshop a little more to see what directions to take new costumes and choreographies on smaller crowds; save the more polished material for Friday and Saturday nights. 

He sipped his chai latte and tried to focus on what Lake was telling him about what had been going on in her life. 

“So,” she segued. Apparently giving up on getting Rhett’s attention any other way. “How’s Link?”

Ah. She had him now. He knew he was being a shitty friend by letting his mind wander and just waiting for his turn to talk, but hey. He’d showed up. That was the first step. Next, he could work on being more present, and being a good listener. He couldn’t be expected to take on the entirety of personal development in one evening.

“Uh. He’s okay.”

She raised an eyebrow at that. “Last I heard, he was a little  _ more _ than okay.” 

Rhett blushed at the implication. “I mean, he’s still… pretty incredible. I think I’m the one struggling with getting past being a little okay. I guess I’m still worried about getting myself in too deep when I feel like I’m only starting to understand myself.”

“And how do you suppose that one... combats that?”

“Taking things a hell of a lot slower than I feel inclined to with this guy.”

“Are you taking things slow, or are you keeping him at arm’s length? And that’s quite a distance when  _ your  _ arms are the measuring tool.”

“Har har… I dunno, Lake… What if I... fall in love, and then things don’t work out?”

“First of all, I’d argue you’ve already fallen. So, yeah. Forget that. Ship has sailed, brother! Furthermore, you could say that about  _ any _ relationship. Or new endeavor or experience. It’s part of life, babes. You just gotta... put yourself out there.”

“But I feel like I’m still growing and changing, and I can’t expect him to hold my hand through all that. He’s got a life to live, too.”   
She took a long sip of her coffee. “Why can’t you expect that? That’s what partners do, they watch you grow and change, and a good one will encourage it! And if you grow in a direction that he can’t hold your hand through, well. Then you encourage each other by ending the relationship, and allowing each other to continue to grow and change on your own, or with somebody else. That is not a failure. And it doesn’t mean that the time that you spend together is worthless. Rhett. Think of your ex. That wasn’t a toxic breakup. And you two are both  _ so _ much happier now, right? You know all of this!”

She was right, and it was exactly what he needed to hear. The idea of failing at something was a poor excuse to not try. He needed to stop wondering what might go wrong between him and Link, and start imagining how they might grow together if he gave their relationship the space for what might go right.

  
  


As Rhett had predicted, the crowd at the club was sparse. Most of the dancers working that night were newcomers like Rhett. The seasoned guys always had dibs on the slots on busier nights and events. Which, as Rhett kept telling himself, wasn’t really a big deal. This wasn’t his career. However, he also had a really hard time not taking everything that he threw himself into very seriously. Even when playing board games or party games casually amongst friends and family, Rhett had a hard time not making it competitive. The moment anyone uttered the words “just for fun” or “we don’t have to keep score”, Rhett’s interest went out the window.

So, while he wasn’t trying to make a career out of dancing, he also didn’t see the harm in challenging himself to be successful at it. And he knew that a part of that meant becoming more proficient in the world of private dancing. That was a completely different ballgame than his stage performances. 

Dancing on the main stage, or even go-go style dancing was just acting. And he was definitely a performer! He was confident that he could perform a choreographed - or even improvised - routine, sell a projected image of himself, and an audience would buy it. It didn’t matter if he felt confident, or felt sexy. He just had to fool the crowd into  _ believing _ that he was. 

But private dancing was different. Rhett felt like if he was lucky, then maybe it was just a more intimate setting for the same type of show he would normally put on for the crowd. That was relatively easy.

But Link had warned him, and Rhett had found it accurate in his limited experience, that the majority of people that wanted a private dance weren’t even interested in watching him dance. They just wanted a captive audience. Someone to listen to them. And Rhett, reflecting on such recent instances as his coffee date with Lake only hours earlier, knew he wasn’t the best listener. He was working on it. He really was. Not just for professional development, but as a life skill as well. He didn’t love that he turned into human wallpaper whenever someone shared a vulnerable emotion, just melting into the walls, hoping no one would notice. Link had said that people love oversharing their emotions during a private dance. Rhett lived in fear whenever he successfully solicited one, not that a customer would lay hands on him or make an inappropriate request, but that they might talk about their emotions, or - good gracious - break down crying. 

A server stopped Rhett and crooked a finger for Rhett to lower himself so that he could speak to Rhett over the booming of the music. 

A little old man had apparently requested a private dance with him. Rhett played it cool, requesting a moment before sending him in. 

Rhett went to the bathroom backstage to compose himself. The guy didn’t look like the strip club type. Then again, Rhett has said the same thing of himself, and look at him now. Rhett appraised himself in the mirror and thought he certainly looked the part now. 

He wore tight black leather pants, a black shirt stretched across his body - like a backward racer back tank that left his nipples exposed, dang near framed. He was wearing a studded leather belt and silver studs ran up the inseam of the painted-on pants. He donned his signature black cowboy hat, straightening it in the mirror. “Man in Black…” he commented aloud, smirking as he imagined Johnny Cash rolling in his grave. 

An old man, Rhett thought to himself. 

There was a  _ chance _ that the man simply wanted to objectify a younger body. Rhett had to question his warped outlook if that was his ‘best case’ scenario. Odds were, however, the guy was just lonely. 

Rhett took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. He gave himself a nod in the mirror. Yeah, he could be company. 

Rhett entered the private room and the man was sitting benignly with his hands in his lap. 

“Howdy,” Rhett said, cringing at his own persona in this one-on-one interaction. 

The man looked so kind, he made Rhett want to cover up his nipples out of... respect? But he didn’t change a thing. The man had seen him, and specifically requested time with him. Old people weren’t dead people. If the man wanted a thrill, Rhett decided to make sure he got his money’s worth. 

But his newfound determination was dead in the water when the next words out of his mouth were:

“You remind me of my grandson.”

That. Did not put a good taste in Rhett’s mouth, and he was  _ really _ tempted to cover up. 

“Do you think you could… pretend to be him?”

“I, uh…” Rhett wasn’t sure what the protocol was here. He figured he had a right to turn down any situation that made him feel uncomfortable. 

“You can sit down if you’d like, son. After all, my grandson doesn’t dance around for me with his nipples out.”

Rhett had never been more relieved as he sat down opposite the man. 

“You are tall like him. Well, maybe a few inches taller. But with the beard and the all-black look, it’s close enough. There’s just…. there are things that I wish I could say to him that I know I’m not brave enough to. I thought maybe trying it out on you might be a worthwhile exercise. Even if I never do work up the courage to talk with him, at least I will have gotten it off my chest.”

Rhett was relieved that this was the only kind of roleplay the man had in mind regarding his grandchild. But this was also a nightmare scenario emotionally. Was he going to  _ accept _ Rhett as a gay man - in lieu of his actual grandson? 

Rhett’s parents had taken his coming out… all right. They hadn’t shunned him, or disowned him. And it was pretty shitty that he felt like he should be thankful for that much? But it wasn’t exactly a celebrated revelation… It was merely acknowledged. 

Was this man about to tell ‘him’ in no uncertain terms that he loved him, accepted him, and embraced all aspects of who he was as a gay man? Because if so… Rhett wasn’t sure how he was going to react to that. And furthermore it broke his heart to think that he might be a practice, or surrogate recipient for the acceptance that this absent grandson should have been receiving. 

_ Oh god,  _ Rhett thought, stomach dropping. What if he was too late, and his grandson had—

“I never tried to… flaunt anything,” the man began. “It helped that I never felt any natural inclination toward… flamboyance. The gorgeous human beings that  _ do _ have a much harder time finding acceptance. But I couldn’t help that I like what I like.  _ Who _ I like… And eventually, it was just the family’s worst kept secret. Talked around, not about. Except for my eldest grandson. Who never talked to me, period.”

Rhett’s jaw dropped slightly.  _ Of course _ . The man was in a gay strip club, after all. 

“So I just want you to know that I love you. And that it breaks my heart that we don’t have a relationship. But I can’t change my heart. And I have to live my truth. I would change anything else to bring you closer to me, I just can’t change who I am.”

Rhett didn’t know what to say, so at first he didn’t say anything. He wished he’d had something to cover up with, still feeling a silly having this man bare his soul while he sat there in costume, selectively bare himself. 

“It is so brave for you to have sacrificed so much to be your most authentic self.” Rhett had to bite his tongue not to call the man ‘sir’, respect for his elders ingrained in him. “For being honest with the people you love. I’m sorry, I’m not really doing my part in this roleplay.”

The man chuckled. “That’s okay, I said my peace. And I feel lighter for having done so. I don’t know if I am ready to say it to the one that needs to hear it. But it feels good to have practiced.”

“You can practice on me any time.” Rhett handed him a business card. “I won’t even charge you.”

“Not very good business, young man,” the man told him with a wink. 

Rhett snorted, but then found himself breathing easier as well. This encounter had serendipitously reinforced Lake’s advice, and added to the perspective that Rhett had sorely needed. 

This man had put himself out there, with his greatest fear being that a loved one would reject him. And that fear had come to pass. It made him sad, but it didn’t make him regret living! 

Rhett made a decision then and there that he was going to love Link: openly and fearlessly. Well, maybe not  _ without _ fear, but in spite of his fears. And if his greatest insecurities came to pass, and things didn’t work out - it wouldn’t make him regret loving. 

He was going to move forward, and stop wondering what could go wrong - and find out what might happen for them if he started envisioning what might go right. 


	21. Chapter 21

Rhett and Link sat next to each other on the same side of the booth at the diner that had sort of unofficially become ‘their spot’. They were fervently discussing the choreography that they had been struggling to work on together. 

“The South Pole ain’t exactly known for this level of… theatrics,” Link commented.

“But it’s actually a great opportunity for that place to elevate the kind of entertainment they have to offer.”

“I agree with you,” Link said, trying to keep the scolding out of his voice. “Don’t get judgey though, it’s a different kind of performance - but one’s not inherently better than another. But yeah, they could use somethin’ else on their menu. It would bring in some different crowds.”

“Doesn’t have to be all about guys like Rick, is all I’m sayin’,” Rhett said. “There are a lot of other guys dancin’ at the South Pole that seem like _real_ artists--” 

“You’re doing it again, Rhett. With the judgey-judgey talk…”

“I’m just-- I feel like we could be the ones that can make a targeted effort to bring in that ‘different’ - not better - crowd. and offer the performers a _potentially_ more satisfying option as a creative outlet. You know, once we show them that this style is a viable option.”

Link smiled as he sipped his peanut butter milkshake, and it made Rhett’s cheeks rise and pinken to see how Link lit up at seeing Rhett get worked up about something he was passionate about.

They ate their food in a comfortable quiet.

This was a rare instance where Rhett found himself unable to eat his entire meal. He knew that he needed the energy, but he was nervous.

He knew they were both nervous. Nervous that they hadn’t had an opportunity to practice nearly as frequently as they had originally set out to. Nervous that their naturally effortless chemistry had been disrupted by Rhett’s minor emotional breakdown. 

No one was laying any blame at anyone else’s feet. 

But the timing had been objectively awful.

Without this personal hiccup, they would have been able to practice together tirelessly. But, as it was, Rhett had needed more alone time than otherwise would have been predicted. He’d needed to spend more time singing his heart out than dancing his ass off. So he had filled his schedule with performances in accordance to those needs of the soul. 

But he knew his dancing had likely suffered for it.

He also knew that Link would never say anything. He’d never point out that it was Rhett’s fault that they hadn’t practiced as much as they needed to. He’d never point out that he was more experienced, and Rhett was the one that needed more practice in the first place. Or that Link drew a larger crowd, being more well-known. Rhett was also of the opinion that he drew a larger crowd because he was better eye-candy.

Rhett had needed to work harder to close the gap, and he simply hadn’t had the bandwidth to do so. He was the one holding them back.

He was the one that needed to bring it. And leave it all out on the stage tonight.

The lights came up on the empty stage to reveal Link lying limp and lifeless in the center. He wore shiny black ankle boots and fishnet stockings that led all the way up his legs and underneath a pair of very short pleather booty shorts. His top looked like a cross between a vest and a corset. He was all painted up with his signature red lips and smokey-eye makeup. He’d kept a bit of a 5 o’clock shadow, which Rhett found to be a deliciously understated piece of contrast.

The music pulsed. Slow and steady like a heartbeat.

Even having been intimately part of developing the choreography, Rhett’s knowing that Link was going to be there, looking _like that_ , was not any less breathtaking. Rhett’s heart pounded, perhaps his foreknowledge was even a contributing factor. He could only hope that their audience was half as intrigued by this elaborate setup.

Link had one arm lying on the stage up over his head; and the other arm seductively draped down the side of his body, with his hand resting on his hip. As if anyone’s eye needed assistance with being drawn to that area.

The lights came up little by little to reveal Rhett having been standing in the background. Hovering like some sort of predatory creature, or guardian angel. Watching Link sleep.

Rhett was dressed in an elegantly trim two-piece suit. The material was as deceptively pliant as any of the faux-leather that was often flaunted onstage. Outfits that resembled material that should have been rigidly stiff were actually blended materials that allowed for necessarily flexible movements.

Rhett smoothly lowered himself to the floor, bringing himself down to Link’s level. One of his large hands raised in an exaggerated display of size. Size which required no exaggeration whatsoever. Rhett wrapped one hand fully around Link’s ankle boot.

On cue, Link’s eyes flew open. Flashing the crowd with his lit up ocean blues. Aside from the opening of his eyes, Link’s body remained still.

Rhett progressively, and agonizingly slowly, ran that hand up the fishnets and traced the outline of Link’s motionless form: from calf, to thigh, to hip. As Rhett’s hand traveled up Link’s body, his face brushed against it in his hand’s wake. His palm fanned out over Link’s chest, fingers flaring open over his long neck, and finally coming to rest in a gentle and adoring grip over his chin and cheek. He held and cradled his face like it was the most precious thing he’d ever caressed - and it just might have been. 

His hand’s journey couldn’t have taken even a minute, but it felt like a blissful eternity, as he claimed Link’s body. 

Then there was a pause. 

A heartbeat. 

A single breath. 

The blink of an eye. 

The tempo of the music changed, picking up as Rhett’s hand rapidly reversed its trajectory to take hold of Link’s, and in one strong motion Rhett lifted them both into upright postures. Rhett twirled Link to move him from his left side to his right side. Link moved with practically inhuman grace, and understated strength. The control that he had over his body could be easily lost upon their audience, as skill and endurance so often was in these sorts of venues.

But Rhett recognized what he was seeing. Of course, he knew that about Link from more than just his dancing prowess. And it served as a reminder to him of how long it had been since they had danced together in _that_ way.

Link spun around Rhett’s long and slender body as if it was a pole. Their hands separated and they moved to independently entertain their sides of the stage in a series of serpentine and undulating movements. 

Rhett could not look over at Link at the risk of being distracted. Not to mention intimidated, or made to suffer by comparison. 

Rhett’s movements _had_ improved. He’d learned from the best, afterall. 

Their bodies organically returned to one another as they met again in the center of the stage. Link lithely moved around Rhett as if he were a moon or satellite in Rhett’s orbit.

Rhett lifted him off the stage, and Link hooked a leg around Rhett’s trunk. His other leg extended with core strength that _Rhett_ could feel - as Link’s body trembled against his own. Rhett desperately wanted to feel Link’s body trembling for him, away from these prying eyes. Somewhere that Link might let Rhett calm his shaking - in the best way that he knew how…

Link’s feet returned to the floor, and Rhett was in awe of how easy Link made it look. Link progressively lowered himself to the stage until Rhett was spinning him across the floor. Rhett’s arms ahced beautifully as he once again lifted Link’s full weight to wrap Link’s body around his own.

Once he returned Link to his feet, Rhett stripped Link’s vest from his chest, and Link strutted across the stage in his remaining boots, fishnets, and shorts that were so short that they barely qualified as such. The only other ‘accessory’ that Link brandished was a wicked smile. 

When Link made his next pass by Rhett, he aggressively removed Rhett’s jacket. He moved to stand behind Rhett’s larger frame, and again worked himself down his body like a pole. As Link lowered into a squat down behind Rhett’s legs, making his booty pop in his black shorts, he ripped the tear-away slacks from Rhett’s legs, leaving his partner in a dress shirt and a g-string.

The crowd loved it.

Rhett’s face was on fire. There were other prominent parts of Rhett’s body that were visibly heated. Rhett felt exhilarated to feel so fully engorged in front of so many people, and with such little fabric to cover his arousal.

They coordinated the ripping off of Rhett’s shirt with Rhett’s lifting Link overhead one last time, as their performance began to wind down. Rhett dexterously and effortlessly - to the untrained eye, anyway - lowered Link’s half-naked body to the floor, positioned identically to how he had been lying when the performance had started.

His eyes fluttered shut, and his body went limp.

A more than half-naked Rhett dragged his hand reverently from Link’s hair down to the tip of his toe, not hiding the way that his open hand slowed over the noticeable bulge in Link’s shorts. He gave it a loving squeeze before he continued worshipping Link’s legs down to his boot. 

Rhett then rose to his full height, and walked away with as much nonchalance as he could feign. All the while giving the audience a full view of his backside: from broad shoulders down to his bare buttcheeks. The string of his immodest covering framed his ass more than it clothed it. He strode off stage taking slow, strong steps, consciously elongating his naturally endless legs, and subconsciously holding his breath until he reached the backstage area. 

He let his breath out all at once, his head blissfully flooded with endorphins.

They’d done it!

Rhett felt like he was high. Like he existed in a vacuum, all the air had been sucked out and the only thing available to breathe was Link. The only sound that he could hear was the opening of the side stage door through which Link entered. Link crashed into him at almost a run; he jumped up into Rhett’s arms, clearly just as thrilled with their performance as Rhett was. 

Link kissed him right there in front of all the other performers, and the sensation of deep connection drowned out all the commotion: people cheering, complimenting, and the vague and distant bitter sound of Rick complaining that ‘this was a strip club, not the fucking ballet’. 

That piece of feedback rolled off their shoulders, because they _knew_ that they had done something spectacular together. 

They stopped kissing for a moment, and Rhett looked into Link’s eyes, sparkling with excitement and creative satisfaction. It made Rhett want to scream, to think he had ever entertained the notion that he might have let Link walk out of his life. He tried to remember another time that he’d felt so absolutely fulfilled, and he came up short. He tried to imagine some hypothetical future accomplishment that could possibly compare to this moment, and he could not do so without picturing Link there by his side. 

Rhett’s arms shook with fatigue. Training with Link had conditioned his body’s endurance and mobility a great deal, but his back still had its limits. He sat Link down onto the edge of a countertop to alleviate his strain, and pressed himself between his thighs. Link held him close and desperate, fingers clenched into fists buried deeply into Rhett's thick and wavy head of hair. He clung to Rhett with his legs hooked around him, clutched to his bare upper body as if he was afraid that Rhett might somehow float away.

“Get a room!” A voice playfully teased. 

They simultaneously smiled into their kiss, and Rhett pulled back just enough that Link could whisper to him. “Take me home, Rhett? I just need you so fucking bad…”

Rhett nodded, and didn’t need Link to tell him that despite his request, Link would be the one driving. 

Rhett’s heart hammered in his chest as he searched the piles of clothes scattered on the floor for something that belonged to him. He then chased after Link, whose backs of his thighs were now dusted in glitter from the countertop.

Rhett couldn’t wait to get them back to Link’s place, and make the tops of his thighs, and hipbones glitter to match.


	22. Chapter 22

Rhett and Link burst through the door into Link’s apartment. It struck Rhett funny how in such quick succession they’d undressed on stage, redressed backstage, only to begin to strip down again in earnest. With much less flair, and grace. 

It was incredible to Rhett how Link moved so beautifully on stage, with supernatural elegance; yet now that they were back at his apartment, Rhett was legitimately concerned for his safety as he nearly crashed into his kitchen island hopping around trying to peel himself out of his skinny jeans. 

It was endearing as hell. 

“Careful,” Rhett cautioned, taking Link into his arms and kissing him with measured restraint. “Want you in one piece.”

“And which piece might that be?”

Rhett chuckled. He ran his hands over Link’s arms and could feel the heat in his muscles. 

“Are you sore?” Rhett asked. “That performance was a hell of a workout.”

“For us both.”

“I might have done more literal lifting, but you know you did the bulk of the work. Your core strength is… incredible.”

Link rolled his eyes. “Bet you say that to all the guys.”

Rhett snorted. “Seriously, though. I could, like… massage you or something? That could be sexy.”

Link kissed him deeply, and pulled back with a little nibble at Rhett’s lips. His voice dropped to a low just. “Massage me from the inside.”

Rhett’s brain threatened to short circuit. 

They fumbled their way into Link’s bedroom, and Rhett gently eased him onto the bed. Worshipping his body with his eyes. Paying tribute with light touches of his fingertips. He kissed his way down Link’s chest until he made it down to his hips, gently wiggling Link free from his underwear. Rhett took a bite at Link’s hipbone, and the moan that escaped Link’s lips was  _ everything _ . 

Link was already hard. Rhett wrapped his hand around Link’s shaft and felt his body stiffen at his touch. 

“You’re so… responsive.” Rhett observed with awe. 

“Been too long since you touched me.”

Rhett frowned. “I’m sorry about that.”

“I don’t neee ya to tell me how sorry you are, baby.  _ Show me _ .”

Rhett took the head of Link’s cock into his mouth, and Link groaned deliciously. Rhett was immediately encouraged to take his length as far as he could, spurred on by all the little moans and gasps that Link couldn’t help serving up. 

Link’s firm hands came to rest over Rhett’s broad shoulders, and he gingerly thrust shallow and rhythmic movements of his hips into Rhett’s mouth. 

Rhett allowed his saliva to pool and leak out from between their bodies to run down the underside of Link’s body. Rhett used a finger to trail the drool down toward Link’s hole. The whimpers that fell from Link’s lips when he touched him there took Rhett’s breath away. 

Rhett lightly traced the sensitive skin at his entrance, and moaned himself as Link’s legs opened wider and wider for him. He was still unable to get over the fact that this beautiful, incredibly sexy man opening up before him  _ wanted _ him. 

Rhett slowly dragged his lips from base to tip, already missing the taste. He liked to think he could read Link’s body like a book by now, but he was also endlessly grateful that it was more of an audiobook. And Link always made it easy for him by telling him exactly what he wanted. 

“I want you to bend me in half and fuck me, Rhett. God, I’ve missed you… and I just need ya so bad.”

Rhett wanted to give Link what he wanted. To  _ be _ what Link wanted. But he could feel his body trembling from the inside as he watched in awe as Link had taken over for Rhett’s mouth, lazily stroking his length as he looked expectantly at Rhett. 

“I… I don’t know if I can do all that? Like, when you say ‘bend you’, do you mean—?”

“I mean: what’s the point of having a pilates instructor boyfriend if you’re not gonna take advantage of the fact that I’m flexible enough to twist me like a pretzel when you dick me down?”

_ Holy shit… _

Link’s voice softened. “I’m already limber from our performance tonight, I promise you’re not gonna break me.” Link sprawled across the mattress to reach for his bedside table, and tossed some lube to land on the bed near where Rhett was kneeling between his legs. 

Rhett slipped his hands underneath Link’s thighs, and slowly felt the release of tension in Link’s muscles as he pressed his knees to his shoulders. He had presented Link’s ass perfectly, and the sight made Rhett’s cock ache and his thighs tingle. He watched as Link’s exposed hole twitched with anticipation. There were still flecks of glitter sparsely decorating Link’s skin that made him look like the treasure that he was. 

Rhett allowed one of Link’s legs to fall forward to rest against his chest as he slicked up his cock with lube. He squeezed a generous amount onto Link, which made his cute little butt jump upon first touch. However, he easily relaxed into the attention. 

Link hadn’t been kidding when he said that he was ready for him. His body was supple and pliant, and welcomed Rhett’s fingers as a warm tight embrace. 

“I love how you touch me, baby,” Link encouraged. “Please don’t keep me waiting anymore.”

Rhett aligned the head of his cock with Link’s eager hole, letting his jaw softly fall open as he watched Link’s velvety pull swallow him inch by inch. Link sighed like the breath was being gently pushed out of his lungs. His sigh was soft and ragged at the same time. His whimpers were pain and pleasure. 

Rhett imagined Link didn’t have a lot of space to breath in this position. And it was incredibly erotic to listen to his short whiny bursts of air, and find that he could alter the sound with the amount of thrust he applied with his hips. 

Rhett extended Link’s lean legs, and ran his hands all up and down their length with adoration. He leaned his weight forward, pushing his legs back further, making earmuffs of his knees. He could feel the way that the bend of Link’s body created pressure against his cock as he moved inside his tight little body. 

“You feel incredible, Link..”

“And you’re still being too careful.”

“Can’t help it.”

“Push me harder,” Link ordered, with a hint of pleading that Rhett could not deny. 

His brain turned to static as he twisted Link’s trunk so that his legs were pushed together and pressed sideways on his left hip, practically hugging his own legs. 

Rhett spread Link’s cheeks wide as he watched his cock slide in and out of Link’s tight hole. 

“Yes, Rhett!” Link whined, “Use me. Make me feel  _ real _ good for ya.”

Rhett was sweating, and his fingertips dug into Link’s hip as he held him steady while he rammed into him. Link reached a hand backward to rest over Rhett’s hand on his hip. It was like they couldn’t find enough connection points for their liking. 

Despite the temptation to lose himself in how good Link felt, Rhett focused on being in the moment and truly feeling each stroke as he buried himself in Link, and felt him moving under and all around him.

Fucking Link was a near spiritual experience. His high, whiny breaths were like a choir’s chanting, lush vocals that enhanced and amplified their emotional and physical connection. Rhett felt like he was being healed with each grunt and moan that he pushed from Link. 

He was brought back to earth as he felt Link’s hand tightening over his. His moans escalated and built up in ways that made Rhett more and more excited as he recognized Link’s impending climax. He felt such a thrill that barely recognized his own voice as he told him, “Let me feel it… Let me feel you come.”

Link’s body went rigid as he threw his head back in an open-mouthed final groan. He squeezed Rhett’s hand so hard that Rhett thought he might break his fingers. And Rhett would have happily let him for the opportunity to feel him squirming underneath him like this. 

Link’s body then went soft, and a low tremor spread over his gorgeous and spent body, almost glowing with a thin sheen of sweet. 

“Sh- should I… stop?”

“Hell no, baby. Want you to come inside me.”

Rhett helped Link to uncurl his body from the twisted position they’d worked him into, until Link was lying flat on his belly beneath Rhett’s taut body. Rhett lifted his hips, and found that Link moved easy for him.. almost doll-like in how he allowed himself to be moved. Rhett placed pillows beneath Link’s front to cushion his oversensitized, spent cock against the rough friction of the sheets. He leaned down to get a mouthful of the meat on Link’s backside. Sinking his teeth into the top of his round buttcheek hard enough to make Link cry out. Maybe even hard enough to leave a dental imprint. 

He held Link’s sides more loosely as he resumed his thrusts, sliding himself into Link’s relaxed body and drawing very different, but no less intoxicating sounds from him. Link moaned as Rhett massaged his back, his sides, and the backs of his thighs. 

He fucked long strokes into him, rocking his hips against Link’s perfect pink cheeks until he was twitching inside of him, filling him up as his head went blissful and light. 

He folded himself over Link, who was still humming and softly moaning, even after Rhett had slipped out of him. 

They were both a bit giggly as Link stretched and writhed like a cat before curling up inside of Rhett’s arms. 

“Mmmm… nnnnghn...”

“You keep doing that,” Rhett chuckled, tightening his hold on Link. “Sounds like I’m still inside you or somethin’. I’m sure that I’m not. I think I’d know!”

“Ha! I dunno... My body just feels so  _ good.”  _ Link stretched upward to nibble kisses on Rhett’s lips. “You make me feel so incredible.”

Link snaked a leg around Rhett’s leg and pulled in to press himself against Rhett and he sighed into Rhett’s lips. 

“You’re insatiable.”

“I don’t need anything from you. I’m happy. Just also… endlessly horny.”

“It’s very sexy,” Rhett confessed, laughing into their kisses. 

“Speaking of sexy,” Link said more conversationally. He unhooked himself from Rhett and stretched out onto his back, reaching his arms up and tucking them behind his head. “Your performance tonight..”

“Oh please,” Rhett shook his head. “I was a bland chip, servin’ up your spicy salsa.”

“That’s not true!”

“I’m an unsalted cracker, supporting the sharpest, most exquisite cheese!”

“Metaphor’s going off the rails real quick, babe. And I’m serious about what we did out there. I think it was.. objectively good. Like.  _ Memphis _ good.”

“What’s ‘Memphis’?”

“Little Town in Tennessee, rock n’ soul Mecca?”

“Yeah, yeah, smart ass. I mean, what’s that got to do with our dance?”

“There’s this annual… I dunno how to describe it. Like, a national showcase of performances like ours. Ranging from burlesque type choreography, aerial modern dance, incredible pole work, and even more Chippendales type stuff… Like what Rick tries to do, but actually good. I wonder if Danny would sponsor us to go. It’s real good publicity for the club. Lord knows the South Pole could use it.”

Rhett’s head was spinning with the thought of performing on a national stage. That was a far cry from stripping down for their little hole in the wall venue there. 

_ Link must really believe in us. _

“I guess I could get into that,” Rhett thought aloud. “Would be nice to get some decent barbecue in my stomach, too. Kinda hard to come by around here.”

“You know who has good southern style barbecue here?”

Rhett raised an inquiring eyebrow.

“Don’t be mad,” Link began innocently. “But there’s a place nearby, AJ’s Beer and BBQ?”

“Oh yeah, I’ve seen it. It’s good?”

“Yeah, well. Adrian is the A in AJ. J’s his husband, Jake. Brews his own beer.”

“So that’s his job outside the club that keeps him from taking the stripper gig too seriously?”

“Yep.”

“Isn’t he an alcoholic? I mean, recovered and all. I get that. But he’s married to a brewer, and co-owns a bar?”

Link shrugged. 

“That’s pretty cool…” Rhett found he was surprisingly comfortable discussing Link’s ex. And not just because Link had peppered in the fact that he was married. He supposed it hadn’t ever really been about Adrian specifically. More about Link’s uneasiness to talk about it. He was glad Link was talking about him now. 

“You get along with them then?”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

Rhett kissed the top of Link’s head, loving how he still smelled of sex as he breathed him in. “Maybe we can go eat there sometime.”

Link nuzzled into Rhett more closely, and Rhett could feel the smile spread across Link’s face; and a warmth radiating through his own chest. 


	23. Chapter 23

Rhett was getting used to waking up next to Link. It wasn’t as simple as just waking up next to somebody, like as opposed to waking up alone. Having  _ Link _ , specifically, in his life gave his days an entirely new rhythm. 

Of course it began with the most fundamental elements of his presence, like the weight of him in bed, and the heat signature left behind if he got up in the middle of the night to pee, or woke up and started his day first - which was not infrequent on days where Link taught pilates. The scent that he left behind on the pillows and sheets when he got up to shower. Or the sounds of him putting on music as he made coffee and went about his morning. 

It was in the opportunities that they had to ‘wake one another up’ on days where Link didn’t have to rush off in the mornings, or when he was back early enough to find Rhett still in bed. Their lazy morning love making sessions were better than any cup of coffee Rhett had ever experienced. And a wholly different kind of sex than they had at night when they were wound up from the day, and the thrill of each other. In the mornings, where Rhett often felt he still had one foot in the subconscious depths of his dreams and the feeling of Link’s body gradually pulling him into the reality of a new day… He and Link seemed to melt into one another, like one being. Like they did when they were on stage together. Like they did when their eyes connected as one watched the other perform individually, on any stage. 

Rhett lost himself in Link in the healthiest of ways, and ultimately found himself when he came out the other side. He had never felt like a more clear or honest version of himself. He had arrived from North Carolina, open to the possibility of ‘finding himself’, as people say. But he hadn’t imagined how it could feel to both see the world and be seen within it in such fresh ways. He was confident and secure in so many things that had always been a source of the fear and shame that had held him back. Now, if people didn’t accept his sexuality, Rhett felt peace with that. If he couldn’t predict his finances in as black and white a way as he could work he had worked his 9-to-5 job, Rhett felt at peace with that. If he made himself vulnerable in front of crowds, baring his heart in his music - or his body in his dancing, Rhett felt at peace with that. 

Rhett gave himself a lot of credit for his own personal development. But he also couldn’t deny that Link had been his rock, his cheerleader, and his inspiration through so much of it. Sometimes he ached with gratitude, and the desire to someday be able to reciprocate all the tangible and intangible ways that Link had changed him; or, as he imagined Link would insist on describing it, the way he had supported Rhett and allowed him to do the hard work of changing  _ himself _ .   


* * *

Rhett hadn’t been to church since his move. He had a complicated relationship with the Church. There was the most obvious problem, the judgement and incomplete acceptance extended toward people ‘like him’. No one had ever spoken to him about it directly, but somewhere along the line he’d gotten the impression that his was a  _ lesser _ path. And that was only one worm in a big ol’ family-sized can of them. There were just too many questions that he wasn’t allowed to ask. Or that he was made to feel difficult for asking. Fundamental things that sometimes distracted him during services. His eyes and mind would wander to the congregation and he would look at these people that he’d grown up with and respected. Did they believe everything they spoke of in church verbatim? God and Creation. Heaven and Hell. Were they all so unexamined? So…  _ stupid _ ? Or did they speak in metaphor? Was it all symbolism? Or did they outright share his doubts? And if any of that was true, why didn’t they talk about it? When he was a kid, he always assumed it would all make sense when he was older. But he wasn’t a kid anymore. And he now knew first hand that adults could be full of just as much doubt as children. And  _ still _ , nobody was talking about it. That was ultimately why he lost his taste for it.

Rhett was fully self-aware of how corny it was, even as he thought it, but music had become his church. He got the same feeling of light and fullness of a congregation joined in prayer or song from an audience joined together throwing their hearts and minds into a song that they all knew and loved. The audience had a shared history of knowing the tune, but each person brought their own personal history into the interpretation. And there were no wrong answers when connecting with music. The individual experiences pieced together into a communal experience during a live music event, and from the stage Rhett had the unique perspective of seeing each tile and then zooming out to witness the mosaic of the crowd’s enjoyment as a whole. There was something holy in that, Rhett acknowledged. He felt both aware of it and a part of it. Each individual that comprised the collective crowd was like a cell that all together made up an organism, moving and existing as one. 

It was a transient feeling, and Rhett figured it would be impossible to constantly live life with this level or depth of awareness. But the fact that he got to experience it at all, in this moment and other moments like this - he figured this feeling was why some people went to church. Some people found this feeling of interconnectedness, or ‘oneness’, and interpreted it as God. Rhett wasn’t sold on it being God, or the universe, or what; but he knew it was special, and he was glad he’d found his own way to tap into it. 

Rhett felt open, bared, and grateful as he finished his set and helped clear his gear from the stage. He washed the layer sweat that had accumulated on his skin after being under the hot stage lights, and he ran his hands through his hair giving his waves some extra bounce. He and Link were so comfortable with one another and had seen each other in every possible state of disarray: early mornings, after workouts, after sex… But none of that intimate familiarity stopped Rhett from wanting to look good for Link.

He organized his belongings backstage, and then wandered out onto the floor to go find Link. He recognized the back of Link’s jean jacket stretched nicely across his shoulders. There wasn’t a bad angle on the man. If he wasn’t so dang cute, it might’ve been obnoxious. Link was seated at a pub style table-for-two back by the bar. Rhett happily joined him, but it didn’t take long to recognize that Link was not existing in the same flighty, ethereal state of grace, gratitude, and oneness that Rhett had been touching.

To put it bluntly, he looked pissed. 

“Didn’t care for my set?” He offered as a light-hearted conversation starter.

“I’m gonna be honest. I missed most of it.” 

Link nudged a rocks glass in Rhett’s direction, and Rhett quietly nodded his thanks. He did find it sweet that through his foul mood Link had been considerate enough to get him a drink.

“I didn’t think I saw ya anywhere.. Everything okay?”

“I-” Link took a huffy breath and sip of his drink before continuing. “I stopped by the South Pole tonight to talk to Danny ‘bout the whole...” he twirled his hand with dismissive irritation. “The whole Memphis Thing.”

“Okay. What, he doesn’t wanna pay for it? Not a total shocker. He’s kind of a penny pincher. Explains why he never updates the decor or anything to bring the Pole into the modern era.”

“It’s not just that, Rhett. He doesn’t wanna pay for it  _ for us. _ ”

Rhett’s face contorted with confusion.

“People  _ like _ our dances. Like… it’s a legit draw. You said the convention was mostly about getting your club’s name out there and promoting? We’re excellent promo material!”

“We’re more than a ‘good draw’, Rhett!” 

“Okay, okay…” Rhett was not used to seeing Link worked up like this. And he didn’t like the way his name was falling from Link’s lips like this. If Link was going to spit out his name in heated emotion, Rhett preferred Link to be naked. With either his legs or his ass in the air. 

“In terms of earnings, clients, and arguably but damn near  _ objectively _ , I’m the best dancer that works the downstairs club!”

That  _ really _ had Rhett’s bug-eyed attention. Link  _ never _ boasted. Not even when it was true. Or especially when it was true. He preferred to let his talents do the talking. But apparently he’d reached a wall of frustration now that his performance hadn’t spoken loudly enough for him.

“I’m certainly not gonna be the one to argue with that…”

“He doesn’t want our  _ artsy _ or  _ theatrical _ dance style changing his clientele or whatever the crap he was going on about.”

“That sounds more like  _ Rick _ than Danny.”

“Don’t I know it!”

“You think he’s got Danny’s ear? Rick?”

“Well, Danny is gonna sponsor Rick to go to Memphis, so you tell me.”

Rhett’s mouth hung open in disbelief. “I mean, even if anyone wanted to try to argue that you aren’t the best dancer at the South Pole, Rick ain’t even a close second!”

“Yep. He’s sponsoring Rick... and Adrian, which that part is fine. I mean, it’s hypocritical, because Adrian’s not as theatrical maybe, but he’s on the artsy side? But Danny won’t consider either of us? That biased motherf-” Link self-censored by raising a shaky glass to his muttering lips. 

Rhett sat in stunned silence for a while. 

“I…” Rhett began tentatively. “I got some money saved up, and… I’m not trying to be presumptuous and I know we really don’t talk much about money, but seems to me you’re doin’ all right for yourself.”

Link raised his eyebrows curiously.

Rhett continued. “Will the convention allow people to just sign up… independently or whatever? Like, unsponsored by anybody?” 

Link’s darkened eyes lit up. But he was hesitant. “I don’t know if I can let us do that, though. It’s quite an investment.”

“It can’t be  _ that _ expensive. I’ve been to conventions before… You can drop a lot of money over the course of a weekend, but nothing that should break our banks, right?”

“It will be expensive. But you’re right, we could afford to pay our way.” He paused. “But the investment… or the risk that I was thinking about is that… Well, Danny’s not gonna like it. He’s gonna see it as us going behind his back.”

“Fuck him.”

“Ha. Yeah, well. I’m sure that feelin’ will be mutual. We go out on our own, and we might not be comin’ back to the South Pole.”

“And whose loss is that?! You said it yourself, you’re the best dancer they got. If they won’t have you back, anywhere else would be lucky to have ya. And are you honestly ever gonna want to bring another cent into that place after all this? You seem pretty sour over it.”

“I just. I mean, I do have my classes and personal training gigs and all, but like… The South Pole isn’t my only source of income, but it’s my biggest source of income. You’ve gotten a little taste of how much there is to be made. And customers know me there, it might be a struggle startin’ over. I don’t know whose reputation could get tarnished. Whose side people will take. But if we flop out there and Danny tells us to kiss his ass, we will be out our money from the trip, possibly our jobs. Possibly all industry credibility..”

“Then we will struggle  _ together _ . You can move into my crappy apartment with me. I’ll do more music and bouncing gigs to help cover us both. Whatever it takes, man! Don’t work for that asshole. Let’s go to this convention and blow the roof off of it.”

Link’s smile showed no traces of bitterness. His happiness reached his now brightened eyes. 

Rhett reached across their table and took Link’s hand. “I’m willin’ to invest in us. Link, you’re so freakin’ talented. If you want this. Let’s just do it! Whatever the aftermath, we will deal with it together.”

“Good gracious, Rhett. When’d you get so brave?”

Rhett felt his cheeks redden and rise with his own shy grin. “I dunno. Maybe when I decided to come out here and make a new life for myself. Maybe when I met you…”

Link untwined his hand from Rhett’s, stood up and walked around the table to kiss Rhett, full on the mouth, to the excited cheers of the lingering patrons and bar staff. 

Before Link sat back down, he pulled his chair around to sit next to Rhett rather than across. Their thighs pressed into one another’s the entire duration of their conversation. 

Link confessed, “I was really hoping that you were gonna wanna do this with me. The reason I was late is that I kinda got carried away online, pricing flights and hotels. If we’re doing this thing, we’re going all in! If we go down in flames, the flames are going to be spectacular!”

Rhett smiled in adoration of Link’s enthusiasm. “It'll be one hell of a show.”


End file.
